The Men Who Loved Her
by NevadaRose
Summary: Kitty Russell was a remarkable woman, and a number of men, foremost among them Matt Dillon, loved her in a variety of ways. This story is about the different kinds of love, care, comfort, and protection that arise in relation what can happen in a person's life.
1. Matt and Doc

**I would like to thank BroncoMap and LadyBrit for beta reading this story for me. Their detailed comments and suggestions were very valuable in helping me to get across the story it was my intention to write. Any errors, typos, or other problems are - of course - my own.**

**At this point, thirteen out of twenty-one chapters are complete and it is my intention to post a new chapter every other day until the story is complete. I'm starting you out with two chapters to get the feel for the story. I hope you enjoy what I've written, and as always I greatly appreciate your comments and PMs - it's what keeps me writing. Nevada Rose**

Chapter One: Matt and Doc

Matt knelt beside her and held back her hair as she bent, retching, over the slop jar. It seemed to take a long time before she could stop, but finally she settled back hard on her bottom on the washroom floor, her arms crossed tightly across her stomach. He poured water into her tooth mug and handed it to her. She rinsed and spat. "Done?" Matt asked. Kitty nodded and he covered the big jar and rose to carefully place it on the other side of the washroom before returning to lift her to her feet.

When she was back in bed, and Matt was seated beside her, wiping her face with a damp towel, he asked, concerned, "What was that all about? I thought you were over that part a month ago."

"I thought so too, cowboy, but apparently not," she managed with a wan smile.

"Well, I think it's time we let Doc in on this, Kitty. I'm going to go up and see him after I finish my morning rounds," Matt told her.

Kitty agreed silently, settling back into her pillows. Her stomach had finally calmed, and she thought if she could just lie still it might stay that way. The touch of pink in the light beginning to come through her front window told her it was barely dawn. Matt stroked the back of a big hand against her cheek and then stood up and began pulling his clothes on. She was sleeping when he quietly left the room a few minutes later, carrying his boots.

OoOoO

The sun was full up when he finished a quick walk up and down Front Street, and he figured it was probably near six and late enough to wake Doc without risking too much commotion. Matt's long legs took him up the staircase to the doctor's office and he tried the knob without knocking. The door opened into Doc Adams' office, and the gentleman himself, still dressed in shirtsleeves, was just lifting a coffee pot from the top of his small stove. He looked up as Matt came in and raised his eyebrows in query. Matt nodded and reached for one of the heavy china mugs hanging from pegs on the wall. Doc filled Matt's cup, then his own, and settled into the chair in front of his desk. Matt took the more comfortable padded armchair next to the front window and sipped his coffee. It was hot and fragrant, and much better than what Festus made.

"You got something special to talk about, or are you just here to mooch my coffee?" Doc asked after a few quiet minutes.

"I'd like you to go see Kitty a little later, Doc," Matt said, "She was sick this morning when we woke up, but I got her back into bed afterwards and she's sleeping now."

Doc's eyes lifted in hastily concealed surprise and he regarded his friend shrewdly from under bushy grey brows. "You do realize that's the first time in the fifteen years she's been in Dodge that you have ever mentioned yourself, Kitty, and the word 'bed' in the same sentence?"

Doc expected some show of embarrassment, possibly even a blush, but wasn't ready for Matt's easy smile and shrug, "You know I sleep with her, Doc. Pretty sure you've known that for a long time, even before the last couple of years."

"Well, if she's pregnant again, son, you're doing more than sleeping," he commented tartly, and was surprised to find that Matt's reaction was a wide grin and a solemn "_Ohhh_, yeah!"

Doc's hand went up to cover his smile in a swipe at his moustache. "This the first time she's been sick?" he asked.

Matt's expression became more serious as he shook his head. "No she got over that part three four weeks ago, Doc. That's why I want you to see her. We didn't expect this today."

"What the hell do you mean, three or four weeks ago?" Doc replied angrily, "How long have you known about this, you big ox?"

"Kitty says she's a little over three months, Doc. She didn't want to tell you until she was sure she would keep this one. Said there was nothing new you could tell her about how to do that."

"Damnation, Matt, you should have known better than that even if she didn't!" Doc exclaimed.

Matt shrugged again. "She wanted to keep it quiet, Doc. I figured that was her choice. Telling you didn't seem to change anything that first time, and then last time…"

Doc scrubbed at his moustache yet again, and looked up at Matt through heavily lidded eyes. "I know, son. That was mighty tough on both of you." Kitty had miscarried painfully and bloodily about a week after her rape by Mannon the previous winter – with Matt still disabled from a gunshot wound.

Doc stood and began assembling bits and pieces from his cabinet, laying them out on his examining table and then fetching his black leather bag to tuck them away. "I'll go see her in a few hours, after she's gotten some sleep." He hesitated, and then faced Matt again, leaning back against the end of the exam table and looking very directly at the huge man sprawled in his chair beside the window, "What changed, Matt? A dozen years with nothing to show the two of you were more than good friends…" Well, that wasn't quite true but he let it pass. "And then three pregnancies in two years. What changed?"

Matt considered that for a bit, the silence comfortable between them. At last he said, "Etta Stone, Doc," he said. "Etta Stone and her boys changed everything."

Doc accepted that, sipping at his coffee, hoping his own reticence might spark further comment. It did. This was something Matt had wanted to say, to share, for a long time. Now he wanted to get it out, talk with Doc about it before things changed again next week. "Those years before, and it wasn't quite a dozen, you old reprobate, we weren't that fast off the mark, well anyway, those years we would get together a few times a month, when I was in town, and things were quiet, and when Kitty felt it was safe…"

Matt looked up at him to find Doc nodding in acknowledgement. He remembered vividly his painfully frank discussions with a younger, worried, Kitty. Discussions where Matt's name was never once mentioned, but most everything else was. Sadly, there wasn't much he could tell her that she didn't already know – times to avoid, times that were likely safer, what she could ask her partner to do, if he would, and if he could – and a sincere but general request to be careful.

"Kitty knew how I felt about marriage and a family in those days, and she accepted that better than any woman I'd ever known. Yeah, I know there were times… but mostly she didn't push me for more than I could give her, and she knew… well, she knew a baby would change everything for both of us." Matt regarded the cup in his hands with great interest, turning it, noticing a small chip in the handle. "You remember that time back in '74 when I resigned the badge after killing those three men from Jake Brand's gang?"

"That was when Joe Stanger killed that young girl at the Long Branch, and Chester went hightailing it out to Carter Creek to find you and make you strap on your gun?"

"Yeah. Kitty and I were out there fishin'. And I was fixin' to ask her to marry me. That very day. But Chester interrupted. Made me see that I couldn't quit, even if I wanted to, because there was no one else who could do the job that had to be done." Matt was quiet for a bit. "Kitty understood. She and Linda had been pretty good friends. Linda's death hit her hard. She knew what would happen to Dodge if I gave up bein' Marshal. And she offered, well, she offered herself. Without strings. Without marriage. I'm not always proud that I took her up on that, Doc, but it did work for us. For a lot of years." Matt gave up on the coffee cup and raised his eyes to his friend's, "There may not have been a ring, but there was a lot of love."

"I know that, Matt." Doc conceded, "And a lot discretion and self-control from both of you."

"Humpf." Matt huffed. "Sometimes it seemed that was almost all there was, but we worked it out. There were a lot of good times. I was able to protect her from some bad things, even if I couldn't keep her from others." He sighed, "But over the years, well, people just began to assume things about us, and when Jake Stone came into town askin' for the Marshal's woman, he found plenty of people to point her out."

"After Kitty killed Etta Stone, after we got back to Dodge…" Matt shook his head, but the words kept spilling out. He'd tied these things inside himself for years on end, and suddenly it seemed important that Doc understand, now, before he went up to see Kitty. "What we'd had before, it just wasn't enough. For a while, there were nightmares. She couldn't sleep, couldn't sleep well at least, when I was gone... I wanted to be with her every night I could, needed to be with her, Doc. You asked me when things changed, well that's when it happened."

"You sure don't do anything the easy way, do you, Matt?" Doc asked. "Ten years of bein' darn careful not to get her with child, and then three pregnancies in a row? You couldn't have done much better if you'd been trying."

Matt stood to refill his cup, and then turned solemnly to face the man who meant so much to him, "We have been tryin', Doc," he said. "No, not that first time, we just got careless, maybe better to say we stopped caring enough to be careful, but after that, well… Look, Doc, people change. When I first took to the law Adam Kimbro convinced me that law and a family don't mix. Frank and I, we argued about that plenty those early years, but I believed it. Frank wanted me to marry Kitty right off, and it upset him when I didn't. But it was the right decision for that time. It's not the right decision anymore. Times change. People change. I'm forty-two years old, Doc. I never thought I'd live to see forty. And right now, Kitty, our baby, those are the most important things there are for me."

"You gonna marry her, son?" Doc asked.

"Yes, sir, I am. Next Thursday evening when Judge Brooker finishes holding court. That's the other thing I came up here to say, Doc. I know you haven't always approved of how I've treated Kitty, but will you stand up with me? At our wedding?"

"You know I will, son. You know that. Proud to," the old man said, but his hand reached out to hold Matt's upper arm, shake it a little, "But you need to tell me, Matt. You gonna give up that badge?"

Matt tried to clear his head, but there was still too much emotion seeping past barriers that he usually kept clamped firmly shut. "I'm still not sure about that, Doc. Kitty and I are still goin' round about it. Seems we both change our minds from day to day on that one."

Doc recoiled a little, dropping his hand, "_Kitty_ wants you to stay on as marshal? I'd have to hear that from her own lips."

"Some days she does, Doc," Matt affirmed. "You go ahead and talk to her about it, but look here, you think she could have put up with me all these years, Doc, the gunfights, the bullets, the fights, all those nights out on the trail with her not knowin' where I was or if I was comin' back – you think she could have done that if she hadn't known how important it was? Part of her wants me to give up the badge. Part of her still feels it's as important now as it was back when Stanger killed Linda Hawkins and there was no one to stand up to him 'cept me."

Doc watched him cannily, "Sounds like maybe you've got some idea how to change her mind about that."

"I've got an idea. Don't know yet if it will work. I'm tryin' to get Frank to come down out of the High Lonesome and take over in Dodge. It's been more than a year since Maria was killed. Nearly a year since he headed back to Montana."

"A year's not a long time to mourn, Matt," Doc told him gently.

"No." Matt sighed, "I know it's not. But we need him here. I need him. Kitty needs him." Matt set down his empty cup. "You'll go see Kitty in an hour or two, Doc?" he asked, on his way out the door.

"You just betcha I will, Mister Marshal," Doc answered, "You just try and stop me."


	2. Matt and Festus

**I would like to thank BroncoMap and LadyBrit for beta reading this story for me. Their detailed comments and suggestions were very valuable in helping me to get across the story it was my intention to write. Any errors, typos, or other problems are - of course - my own.**

**At this point, thirteen out of twenty-one chapters are complete and it is my intention to post a new chapter every other day until the story is complete. I'm starting you out with two chapters to get the feel for the story. I hope you enjoy what I've written, and as always I greatly appreciate your comments and PMs - it's what keeps me writing. Nevada Rose**

Chapter Two: Matt and Festus

Quitting or staying, there was one thing left to do before Matt Dillon married, and that was to take Brad Tonneman in to Kansas City. Tonneman was the worst kind of spoiler, and Matt could barely stand to be in the same room with him, much less be civil to the man, even if one of them was behind bars in the drab cell behind the marshal's office. He'd watched, helpless, bound and gagged, as Tonneman and his men had burned a whole family inside their home. He'd known that they'd done the same thing before – their way of extracting fearful cooperation from the 'steaders in the area – but part of him knew that this particular object lesson had been directed straight at him. His own rescue, at the hands of Festus and Newly, had just set him on the trail again – this time with a posse – and this time successful in bringing in Tonneman himself. A trial, his own stolid testimony, and a guilty verdict seemed some vindication, but there were other crimes resting against the man, and extradition to Missouri for further trial was the next step. After that Kansas and Missouri could argue about who got to execute him. Matt himself thought about standing the man on the border tied to a team of horses on each side and letting them see who could pull hardest. He still dreamed of fire and children screaming. On those nights he knew it was time for him to quit.

Festus had already fed the prisoner, jerky, water, and a heel of bread, when Matt walked into the office. The door to the cells was carefully closed. "You want some coffee, Matthew?" Festus asked, shaking the pot.

"Nope, just had some with Doc. But I'll take you to breakfast when Newly gets here to watch the prisoner," Matt said.

"Wah-ell that would be fine, Matthew, jus' fine. I could use some vittles. Could use a break from that there prisoner, too," Festus replied.

Matt looked up from the papers on his desk, "He been givin' you trouble, Festus? Want me to stay with him tonight?" Matt felt guilt twisting his gut. He'd left too much of Tonneman's care to his deputy, allowing him too big a share of the dirty work.

Festus' clear eyes met the marshal's across the desk, and he said, quite gently, "Matthew, you know I don' want that. There's a sight of difference between lis'nin' to that polecat's filthy mouth and havin' to watch him do that there. You done the hard part already, Matthew, I'll jus' go 'head an' take on this li'l bit for you." He turned away to look out the window, then back to smile at Matt, just a little slyly. "Anyways, Miss Kitty likely needs you with her right now."

Matt's face closed over. That was plain speaking, and a ways beyond the line, even for a man who knew, had to know, where to find the marshal if he were needed in the night. Then the impact of what Festus had said hit him. How could the hillman possibly know, possibly even suspect, when Doc hadn't? Festus' next words startled him even more, "You gonna marry her, Matthew?" Dillon wasn't ready to be asked that question twice before breakfast.

"You have something to say, Festus, you go ahead and say it," he told the deputy in what he hoped was a calm voice.

"I ain't hoorahin' you, Matthew. I just want to know. You gonna marry Miss Kitty before that baby's born? Seems to me like you ought to, but I know it ain't none o' my business. Wouldn't matter back in the hills, Matthew. Why back there everybody'd just know how things was and there wouldn't be no need for a preacher. But here in the big city, well, you know there's folks that put a store by little things like that. Might be easier on Miss Kitty if you two was ta go ahead with it formal like." Festus hesitated, and then got on to the part that mattered most to him, "I'd hate to see Miss Kitty bein' treated poorly by some o' them fine laydees around town, Matthew. She's a better woman than any o' the likes of them."

Matt took a breath. Their lives had been too private for too long to let loose without some pain. His conversation with Doc earlier this morning had already stretched him to his limits. "Yes, I'm going to marry Kitty. Next week when we get back from Kansas City." He watched the huge smile that spread across his deputy's face and couldn't resist the question, "How the hell did you know she was having a baby, Festus? We haven't told anybody, even Doc, until this morning."

"Why, Matthew, all a body had to do was look at her! First she was all greeny sick-lookin' for weeks on end, and then this last month just glowin', glowin' like a rose." Festus shook his head sadly, "I jus' cain't see how ol' Doc missed all that, him makin' out like he's a pro-fesh-un-ul doctor an' all."

And at that point the street door opened to let in both Newly and Doc. "Who's a professional doctor?" Adams spouted, "You talking about me behind my back, again?"

"Well you know I don' do that, Doc. I'll say anything to your face needs sayin'," Festus commented, "Matthew and I we were jus' talkin'. How you doin' this mornin', Newly? I done fed that there prisoner. No need to even open the door, I'd say, ifn I was you."

Newly nodded and seated himself at the desk with a newspaper as the other men collected their hats and walked out. Short of a fire or tornado, he had no desire to open the door to the cells, and no intention of doing so.


	3. Matt and Kitty

Chapter Three: Matt and Kitty

It seemed to Matt that he was doing less marshaling these days. Images of past summers filled his mind – roundups, stampedes, gunfights, and a continual round of drunken brawls, underhanded gamblers, and fights over saloon girls and the price of whiskey. There were still herds coming in, and trains left the stockyards west of town each day pulling cars of lowing cattle. There were still cowboys spending money and cattle buyers making deals, outfitters stocking chuckwagons for the long trail back to Texas or Colorado, and drummers selling every conceivable commodity to the local businesses. But the raw, wild, vigor of earlier years had been replaced by a more ordinary hustle and bustle. He hadn't seen a mountain man or a hide skinner in town in weeks, maybe months. But when more people were ordinary, those that weren't stood out in even sharper contrast. Could Tonneman have worked his wickedness with as little effort in those years after the war when every man wore a gun and expected to use it day by day? Maybe not. Maybe not.

This night Front Street was resting easy – loud and lively rather than rough and rowdy. He ducked into the Long Branch a little before midnight, but his searching eyes found no sight of Kitty Russell. A shared glance with Sam and the bartender's eyes lifted in an almost invisible nod towards the upper floor. Matt smiled his thanks and headed through the door to the back hall and the back stairs.

Kitty was sitting brushing her hair when he turned his key in her lock, and she lengthened the stroke of her brush as he entered, waiting for him to come, as he did, and take it out of her hand. She loved it when Matt brushed her hair.

"You're early, tonight," she said.

"I was about to say the same thing about you," he replied.

Kitty made a little grimace. "Doc."

"Oh." He continued brushing. "Well, it was bound to happen."

"I'm not mad about it, Matt. You're right. It was time. It's just…" Kitty turned to lay her cheek against his waist. "It was just so nice, for a little while, when it was just us."

Matt set the brush down and lifted her to stand in his arms, "Well, I thought so too, Kitty, but apparently we weren't the only ones to notice." He told her about Festus, carefully leaving out the part about "greeny sick-lookin'" and remembering to include "glowin' like a rose". Kitty laughed, and he laughed with her. As a story it was much better than sitting listening to the words under Festus' studied gaze.

"Doc give you a bedtime, Kitty?" he asked, turning her around so he could rest his hands on her nicely rounded belly. Nothing showed under the full skirts she now wore during the day, but holding her loose fitting nightgown tight against her he could trace the outline of her pregnancy, and her breasts, free under the gown, seemed delightfully heavier.

"I'm to go to bed by midnight and drink mint tea before I go to sleep," she replied, "If I can't sleep, then I get to change to chamomile tea."

"Wouldn't whiskey work as well?" Matt asked, pouring them both a drink.

She giggled. "By golly, Matt, I think you're right!" But a yawn broke in as she sipped her drink. "Wanting to sleep isn't a problem, Matt," she told him, "Just the opposite. I nap in the afternoon and then come up early at night." She frowned. "It's hard on Sam."

Matt took her empty glass and walked her over to the bed. "Sam know?" He pulled back the covers and tucked her under them.

Kitty yawned again. "I think so. Pretty sure." She took Matt's hand as he sat down next to her, "You know he had a family? Before the war?"

Matt's brow clouded. He knew the story, and it wasn't pretty. "Wife and children all dead and buried when he finally got home. Just the grave markers at the farm. No one to tell him what happened or even who buried them." The story hit Matt hard. He'd buried countless bodies in shallow graves on the prairie leaving a makeshift cross and a silent prayer as their only marker.

But Kitty was moving on, "He was bad for a while, Matt. Drank a lot. Then he came west from Virginia and made a new life," she squeezed his hand, "I can't but be glad he did. I couldn't run the Long Branch without him. Not now. And babies, well, that's not new to him. I can tell by the way he looks at me, he knows."

"You talk to him about it all the same, Kitty. Or I will." Matt smoothed her hair back from her forehead, "I always feel better, when I'm out of town, knowing you have Sam with you at the Long Branch, sleeping here." That had been a change Matt had asked for after her kidnapping by the Stones. Sam had the big corner room on the other side of the building with his own outside entrance and everyone concerned felt more comfortable with him sleeping in – even if most nights he left by the front door and walked around to his own stairs. Matt tilted his head curiously, "You pay him enough, Kitty? For what he does?"

Kitty laughed. "He's been my partner for nearly two years, Matt. We worked that out after I lost the first baby. He just didn't want anyone to know – thinks they'd start to turn to him instead of me, and that's not how we work things. I make the decisions, and he's taken on more of the work, but yes, he's getting enough out of the Long Branch to keep him plenty comfortable."

"That's good then." Matt said, relieved. He cared little about money, although he knew Kitty did, but he did care about her security and peace of mind, and he trusted Sam to see to that. "You want me to turn out the lamp, honey? I've got to go back out for one more round. Festus is stuck at the office with that son of a bitch, Tonneman. Be back in an hour or so."

Kitty looked at him curiously. It wasn't like Matt to use language when she was around, but she knew that Tonneman was a special devil. "Leave the light. I'm going to read a little. Promised Doc I'd go to bed, but I didn't say anything about going to sleep. Oh, and Matt?"

"Hmm?"

"Doc said before Christmas, just like we thought."

He kissed her lightly on the lips and he left, locking the door carefully behind him, and tucking the key into the special inner pocket of his vest.

OoOoO

Matt took his time walking Front Street. Met a few friends. Had a beer or two when they were offered at the other saloons. Everyone knew he spent his time at the Long Branch, but he kept a finger on the other places as well. He took his place in a couple hands of poker at the Bull's Head and lost, though not very much, with good humor.

Mollie Parks offered him coffee at the Oasis, and he drank it, not unpleased at the shot of good whiskey she'd clearly added to his cup. They were seated at a table in the back, and he noticed her taking a look around the almost empty room before she leaned in to speak to him. "Word is that Doc was up to see Kitty today." Matt sipped his coffee, his face calm. Mollie was an old friend, and good company, but he didn't share secrets with her. He'd shared a bit more with her when he was younger and Josh Stryker had first introduced his deputy to the lady. She was some older than he was, comfortable and undemanding, and she'd taught him a thing or two during those early years, but that had been a long time ago. "I'm not trying to be pushy, Matt, we've known each other too long for that, just trying to let you know that there's beginning to be talk. Just a little, but it could lead to more."

"A man can't sneeze in Dodge without the word going out he's dying of pneumonia," Matt commented evenly. He smiled and patted Mollie's arm where it lay on the table. "Don't worry about it, Mollie."

"Well, I might if it were anybody but you, Matt," Mollie admitted frankly. "You just let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Sometimes a quiet word here or there can do wonders."

Matt smiled a little and finished his coffee. Chet, at the bar, was making closing-up noises. Matt rose to leave. His memory flashed briefly on his own embarrassment that day, not more than a dozen years ago, when someone had finally mentioned in his hearing that Chet and Mollie were married, had been for a long time. It still wasn't something he understood, but, as the years passed, he'd come to know it was the way it worked for them. Mollie stood up beside him, going up on tiptoe to give him a smacking kiss on the cheek and a pat on the seat of his pants, "You tell Kitty I'm coming to visit her soon, Matt."

"I'll do just that if I see her, Mollie," he said and left her shaking her head and chuckling over the 'if'.

He crossed the street and stood looking over the top of the batwing doors into the Long Branch. Most of the tables had been cleared and the chairs put up. One game of poker was still going on in the back, and a lonely cowboy was still hopefully chatting with Cora over by the stairs. He walked over to the bar where Sam was drying a stack of recently washed glasses.

"Howdy, Marshal," Sam greeted him, "Get you a drink?"

"Nope. Probably had more than I should tonight already, Sam. Just wanted to talk to you." Sam looked over at him, his face cocked in a listening expression. "You know I'm leaving tomorrow for Kansas City? Taking Newly and Festus with me on the train."

Sam shook his head, "I don't remember a time you've needed three men for one prisoner, Marshal," he commented.

Matt's face hardened. "He's not a normal prisoner, Sam, and his gang is still loose out there somewhere. That's one reason I'm taking him on the train – it's a lot harder to stop a train than a coach or a rider. Faster too. We expect to be back in four days, no more than five."

Sam nodded, waiting.

"I deputized Burke earlier today and he's going to watch the office, Sam, but I wondered if you'd take a badge for me, too. Just in case something comes up that takes sense as well as muscle?"

Sam grinned and reached out his hand for the badge Matt held out. He tucked it in the pocket of his vest. "I'll just leave it there unless it's needed, Marshal. You tell Burke?"

"Oh, yes. Made it mighty clear who was in charge if anything were to happen," Matt replied.

"We're good then." Sam told him, lifting his eyebrows in query as Matt continued to stand looking at him.

"You know, Sam?" the Marshal eventually asked quietly.

"I know, Matt," Sam replied, his smile both tender and serious. "I'll make sure she comes to no harm while you're gone. Trust me, I'll watch over her for you."

"I do trust you, Sam. Always have," Matt Dillon said. "And now… well, I'm glad you're her partner." He reached out to offer a hand to the man across the bar, and Sam took it in a firm clasp. With a nod of his head but no further comment, Matt headed for the back stairs, and Sam walked over to rescue Cora from her pining cowhand.

OoOoO

Despite her stated intention to wait for him, Matt found Kitty asleep when he entered her room. He deftly removed her book and lorgnette to the table, and blew out the lamp before removing his clothes and slipping into the far side of the bed. He was surprised to find soft hands waiting to caress him and pull him close.

"I thought you were asleep," he said against her hair.

"I was. I'm not now," Kitty told him.

"No, you're not, are you?" he chuckled as those hands ran over his hips and then moved lower to stroke his thighs. He pulled her closer, trapping her hands just where he wanted them. His own palms spread against the softness of her bottom, stroking and kneading her just as she was him. Her mouth was sweet and warm, opening under his.

It wasn't long before her gown was gone and the sheets and covers pushed away. He found her breasts and caressed them gently, knowing they were likely to be tender. He was expert by now on what she liked in the first months of pregnancy and was eager to find out what the months to come would bring. Her ran his hand over the rise of her belly and let her hands in his hair guide his mouth to her nipples, suckling gently, teasing with his lips. Gentle as he tried to be, her eager hips and arching body drew him in, pushing him for more, urging him to plunge harder, setting a faster pace. "Whoa, honey," he whispered, "There's no race, we've got all night." But her mouth reached up for his, her tongue stridently showing him exactly what she wanted, her hips opening wide to lift and rub up against him. Matt gave her what she asked him for, and was rewarded with her ardent cry and the feel of her muscles spasming around him as he thrust into her, clutching him until he spilled hot and urgent inside her.

"I wish you weren't going." It was her turn to whisper now as they lay twisted together, the sheet pulled up around her shoulders.

Matt ran his hands over the smooth skin of her back. She didn't say that often, although he knew she thought it. "I'll be back just as soon as I can, Kitty," he promised her. "You'll wait for me?"

"You know I will, Matt. I always do."

There was one tender kiss, and they both settled in to sleep.


	4. The Train

Chapter Four: The Train

It was the smile Matt hated. It was the smile that damn near had him using a rifle butt on Tonneman's face, but Festus' cautioning hand on his arm pulled him back from the brink. The four men started their walk from the jailhouse to the train, heading slowly down the middle of Front Street as the citizens of Dodge drew back onto the wooden sidewalks, peering out through doorways and windows as the men passed – their fear and hatred was palpable, and Tonneman just kept smiling. He walked, shackled hand and foot, with Festus a few feet away on one side and Newly on the other, both men scanning alleys and balconies for trouble. The deputies carried Winchesters and wore gunbelts. Behind Tonneman Matt Dillon walked slowly with a short-barreled 12-gauge scattergun held in both hands and pointed directly at the prisoner – his intention was to fire at the first sign of trouble. Brad Tonneman was going to board that train or die, and Matt didn't care much which it was.

Matt contemplated briefly the consequences of tripping and letting off the gun. He gave himself pretty good odds on his reputation carrying him through the 'accident' without discredit. Years as a lawman kept him walking steady. He glimpsed Kitty standing outside the Long Branch, Doc to one side with a hand on her arm and big Sam Noonan looming over the two of them from behind. Matt didn't turn his head as their slow march passed the saloon and continued on to the station.

There was never an intention of taking Tonneman into a passenger car. The state of Kansas had agreed to add an extra caboose to today's train, siting it midway down the train with sealed freight cars fore and aft. Newly entered first, checking out the small main room and the tiny attached kitchen and toilet facility. When he gave the all clear, Dillon nudged Tonneman forward up the stairs and into the car. Inside the door a small open bunk lay on either side of the narrow center aisle with the brief open space beyond occupied on one side by a table and two chairs and on the other by the stairs up to the lookout seat with its windowed and timbered cupola for viewing the track ahead and behind.

The first thing was to lay Tonneman out on one of the bunks and use extra handcuffs to attach his shackles to the sturdy frame at hands and feet. The back door and the heavy wooden door to the kitchen area were both bolted and locked. Festus took a seat on the remaining bunk and Matt traded him the scattergun for his rifle. Newly headed up to the lookout seat, and Dillon stood foursquare in the doorway until the conductor came by to confirm they were ready to travel. With the front door locked, Matt sat down at the table, rifle in his hands, and settled himself to endure the first part of the trip.

The prairie flowed past. The three men guarding the prisoner changed positions after an hour. The first few stops were weathered without incident, but no one relaxed. Dillon was sure there would be an attempt on the train. He was prepared to shoot the prisoner, bound as he was, rather than release him. His only surprise was how quickly things happened. He hadn't expected the attempt to come until nightfall, and he'd expected it to come while the train was in motion. He'd been wrong.

When it came down to it, it was tragically simple. All of their preparations were for naught because no one tried to break in and rescue Tonneman; they just made it impossible for the marshal and his deputies not to give him away. Whoever planned Tonneman's rescue knew that Dillon couldn't let another family burn.

"Sumthin's a-goin' on up t' th' water stop, Matthew," Festus called down from the cupola, and Matt took three steps up the stairs until he could look out through the windows. What he saw stopped his heart – bodies tied to a stake and a fire ready to flame. What the engineer saw started him stopping the train – a wagon of women and children pulled across the track.

"Festus, you stay up here and keep your head down," Matt said. "You stay no matter what happens and just watch. If you can live through this, you're our ace in the hole." He grasped his friend's arm, hard. "Festus, I need you to do something you're going to hate, and I need you to do it because I ask you. I can't explain and I can't argue."

"What's that, Matthew?"

"I need you to give me your word that you'll take care of them. And to do that I need you to be a coward today. You do that for me, old friend, and you can tell Kitty I died well."

"You're a hard man, Matthew Dillon," the hillman said, his eyes squeezed nearly shut, "I'll do 'er. You have m'word."

The train had almost stopped when Dillon descended and pulled the handcuff keys from his pocket. He began releasing the smiling Tonneman.

"What is it, Marshal?" Newly asked, "What's happening out there?"

"We have to give up the prisoner. They're going to want me, too," Matt said.

"There's three of us, Marshal, we can take them…" Newly began, but Matt shook his head, pulling Tonneman to his feet.

"No, Newly, we can't. Not this time." Dillon told him, "Part of winning is knowing when to quit. You tell Kitty I love her. And Doc too. Stay alive for me so you can do that."

"Yes, sir." Newly replied, not knowing what else to say.

Matt grabbed Tonneman's arm and pushed him out the door onto the back platform of the caboose. A heavy wagon, hitched to a double team, pulled up next to where the two men stood. A woman and a young girl cowered in the back. Almost directly in front of them, as if someone had known their car's exact position in the train, a tall post was set into the ground. Another woman and two children were tied back to back around it. Brushwood was piled deep around the pole, and men with torches stood mere feet away – close enough that any shot would drop the torches into the pyre. The woman and one little boy had bright red hair.

Tonneman jumped lightly down into the wagon bed. "Come on down, Marshal," he invited, still smiling, "We're going for a ride." Matt stepped steadily down into the wagon, and watched as two men brought the engineer forward from the front of the train.

"Now, Marshal, you tell that man to drive the train on to Topeka," Tonneman told him. "You tell him there will be men watching up ahead, and that if he stops, if he even slows down, that my men here will light up this fire and these fine folks will burn." Tonneman looked up into the Marshal's eyes and smiled, "You had enough of burning children yet, Marshal?" Dillon looked straight into his eyes, expecting to see madness, but all he saw was hate.

His voice calm, and loud with authority, Matt gave the engineer his instructions.

"You ready to die, Dillon?" Tonneman asked with pleasant malice.

"Let the women and children go, Tonneman. You don't need them anymore. I won't fight you. My word on it." Matt said bluntly.

"Oh, you're not quite as important as you think you are, Marshal. I may need hostages yet to get out of this."

"You'll have me, you don't need them." Matt said.

"But you, Marshal, will be dead," Tonneman told him, drawing the marshal's own gun from the holster at his side. Matt Dillon stood tall and still. There was a gunshot and a rush of blinding pain as the world went black around him. Watching and listening in horror, Newly and Festus both saw him fall as the train pulled slowly away.


	5. The Death of a Legend

**Because Chapter Five is so short, I'm giving you two chapters this evening. Next installment in two more days.**

Chapter Five: The Death of a Legend

How do you deal with the death of a legend? Festus Haggen and Newly O'Brien did it by rolling off the train as it approached the next town, commandeering horses, and riding back to the site of the holdup while startled townsfolk tried to get up a posse. They found exhausted, frightened hostages trying to tend to each other, but all traces of Tonneman's gang were gone. Wagon tracks, marred by the passage of many horses, headed south. Leaving the women and children to wait for the posse, Newly and Festus rode on south.

Late in the afternoon they found the wagon abandoned at the side of the road. The woman was dead, shot through the back. The girl, wounded in the shoulder, was unconscious, but alive. Matt's bloody hat lay in the wagon bed. His body was gone. In the fading light, the two men looked in defeat at the tracks of more than a dozen horses headed off in almost as many different directions.

They built a fire and set up camp, Newly doing his best to care for the injured girl while they waited for the posse to catch up with them. A crescent moon rose bright and clear. Stars shone in the prairie sky. Two men sat dejected on the ground, backs against their saddles. They didn't speak and they didn't sleep. Finally as the moon began to set in the still dark sky, Newly asked, "What did Matt mean when he asked you to 'take care of them', Festus. Who did he mean? Doc and Miss Kitty?"

Festus struggled with his throat. The words didn't want to come, and he couldn't get them out without tears. "Naw, Newly. He meant Miss Kitty and the baby – he jus' didn' want Tonneman to hear that there fact. But I knowed. I gived him my word I'd take care of Miss Kitty and the baby."

It was too much. Newly pulled off his hat and smashed it against the ground, "God damn them to hell," he shouted, hitting his fist against his saddle over and over.

Festus moved to him and knelt beside the younger man, catching the fist in both his hands, but releasing it as Newly lifted his hands to cover his face. Festus heard the choked sobs wracking his fellow deputy and laid an arm around his shoulders. "A good man died today, Newly. A good man. Wasn't never better. And tomorrer, why tomorrer you and me we've got to go back and tell his woman that he's dead. It's mighty hard, Newly, but it's what we gotta do."

The posse, led by the sheriff out of Larnad, arrived an hour or two before dawn, twenty strong and with a dozen remounts in their remuda. Dodge City held the nearest medical care, and with fresh horses hitched to the wagon, Newly and Festus headed out for home with the injured girl. It was a slow, sad ride, and neither of them spoke much. The only things that kept them going were the need to get the girl to Doc, and their resolve to be there to support Kitty Russell.

OoOoO

They rolled into Dodge early in the afternoon, and pulled up outside Doc's office. "He'll be with Miss Kitty, Newly," Festus said. "You go'wan and get him and bring him on up t' th' office. I'll take care a' this child."

Festus had never realized how old Doc really was until he saw Newly leading the small man through the crowd beginning to gather in the street. Clothes rumpled, his face drawn in pain, he barely seemed able to take the steps. But there was no question of who was in charge as Doc leaned over to examine the girl and began assembling the instruments he needed for surgery. "One of you call down there and have someone go for Ma Smalley, if they can't find her, get Mollie Parks." He looked up from what he was doing to meet the eyes of the two men standing before him. There was a desperate question in his look that Festus could only answer with a sad shake of his head. "You'll have to go tell Kitty, then. Better to know than not. I've given her all the medicine and all the whiskey she can tolerate in her condition."

Wishing there were anything else on the whole earth that they could do instead, Newly and Festus descended the stairs and headed for the Long Branch. The barroom was full but quiet, and Clem was behind the bar. Kitty's girls were spread out across the room making little patches of color in the solemn, somber crowd. Eyes followed them as the two men trudged resolutely up the stairs and along the balcony. Cora and Lizzie began to cry. Clem turned his back on the room and bowed his head.

Looking through the curtain into the back hall they saw Kitty's door wide open. She had heard them and came stumbling through the doorway, her eyes on Festus standing, bravely, in front. There was no need for words, and although Festus moved quickly it was Sam, coming up behind her, who caught her as she fell.

OoOoO

Doc Adams handled the death of his closest friend by doing what he always did, caring for others. He took a bullet out of the girl that Festus brought up to his office, and set Ma and Mollie to watching the child in turns. He had packed his medical bag and was getting ready to go and spend another night sitting with Kitty when Newly came back into the office.

"Doc," he started, and then broke off.

"What is it, Newly?" Doc asked, "I'm heading over to see Kitty."

"Doc, I have," Newly cleared his throat, "Have a message for you." He stopped briefly and then went on, "From Matt."

Doc's attention was focused intently on the younger man now, "You go ahead and give it to me then, Newly."

"Right at the end. As he was leaving the train. He gave me a message for Kitty, and one for you." Newly said, "He wanted me to tell you he loved you, Doc."

Doc looked down at the floor, sweeping a hand across his moustache, then he looked up into Newly's face, tears pooling in his hooded eyes. "Thank you, son. That means a lot to me. You know that." He nodded once, laid a hand briefly on Newly's arm, and then walked out the door.

But before he headed for the Long Branch he stopped at the bank and took fifty dollars in gold out of an account that held quite a bit more than most folks in Dodge suspected. He took the money to the telegraph office and posted it as a reward for confirmed delivery of his telegram to Frank Reardon up in Montana. He figured fifty dollars would get someone moving up into the hills on horseback without delay. His telegram read only:

MATT DEAD STOP KITTY NEEDS YOU STOP COME AT ONCE STOP DOC


	6. Kitty

Chapter Six: Kitty

Kitty woke as it was beginning to get dark. No one had tried to bring her out of her faint. Sam had just laid her on her bed and sat beside her until, an hour or two later, Doc came in and replaced him. It was Doc's hand holding hers that she felt when she regained consciousness, and Doc's small body sitting close to her on the side of the bed.

He hadn't lit a lamp, and he didn't bother now, just said softly, "It's Doc, Kitty. I'm here with you. I won't leave you alone."

Kitty didn't speak for a while, she just laid thinking about what had happened over the last two days. The first telegram had come in a little after noon. It had gone to Burke at the marshal's office and showing rare good sense he had taken it first to Sam Noonan. Sam had fetched Doc and the two of them had made their way up to the room where Kitty was napping. The telegram had said only:

TRAIN HELD UP STOP TONNEMAN RELEASED STOP DILLON FEARED DEAD STOP

There had been so many times when Dillon had been feared dead, yet each time he had returned. Kitty had come to expect miracles, and refused to give in to panic. She had let Doc give her a sleeping powder and sit next to her, in Matt's big chair, through the night. She had even tried to console him, knowing how much he, too, cared.

The next telegram had come midway through the following morning. Kitty had gotten up, washed and dressed, and gone down to stand with Sam in the bar. Walking back and forth had seemed easier than sitting still until the second telegram came. Burke brought it and Sam held her cushioned against him with a strong arm around her shoulders as she read it.

DILLON AND ONE HOSTAGE DEAD STOP TONNEMAN GANG STILL LOOSE STOP

DEPUTIES RETURNING TO DODGE STOP

After that, still refusing to believe, she had retired blank-eyed to the rocking chair in her room until Festus and Newly came to her. One look at Festus' sad eyes was all it had taken. Matt was dead and she was alone.

Except that she wasn't alone. Her hands moved down protectively over the child in her belly. Doc saw the motion and moved his hands to cover hers. "People die, Kitty. Even people we love as much as we loved Matt. People die and people are born."

"I don't know how to do this, Doc. I always knew it could happen, but I never really believed it would. What do I do, Doc?" she asked.

"Tonight you just rest, and sleep if you can. I don't want to give you anymore medicine unless I have to. We'll stay here with you, be with you if you want to talk, or if you want to cry," he said.

"And tomorrow?" Kitty asked.

"Tomorrow you get up and continue living your life. It may never be the same again, Kitty, but it's still a life, and you have a baby to think about."

OoOoO

Newly was sitting beside her when she next woke. He'd hoped she would be awake when he came in, but she wasn't. Doc had helped her change into a nightgown and she lay propped against pillows at the head of the bed, sleeping off the last of the whiskey and Doc's powders from the previous day. The lamp was turned low, and she saw him sitting there on a chair beside the bed.

"Newly?" Kitty wasn't sure he'd ever been in her room before, much less sitting watching her sleep.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. She'd always thought of him as young, but he didn't look young now. His usually smooth face was unshaven and there were lines around his eyes that she swore weren't there two days ago. He moved from the chair to sit beside her on the bed, and there was neither shyness nor reserve in the way he took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I need to talk to you, Kitty. Can you let me do that now, or should I wait?"

"May as well be now, Newly. We've got this night to get through, and then tomorrow, well, tomorrow Doc says I have to start living again."

"It's about Matt, Kitty. I need you to know how it ended," he said.

"Well, I do need to know that, Newly. I was waiting for you and Festus most of the day – didn't want to believe it, really believe it, until I heard it from you." Kitty told him. "I think I'll take this better sitting up," she said, and he stood and helped her pull back the covers and get up.

She noticed him looking at her, watching her with the eyes of the doctor he hadn't quite become, before he picked up the robe that lay across the foot of her bed and held it for her. Her hand strayed to where her belly was just beginning to swell. "You know about the baby, Newly?" she asked softly.

"Yes, ma'am, I do. Festus told me. Out there on the trail. I hope you don't mind."

"I guess everybody's going to know, pretty soon," Kitty said. She hadn't thought much about that yet. Since she'd first know she was pregnant she'd known that Matt was going to marry her and there hadn't been any worry. Now her brow creased and she wished they'd gone ahead and done it instead of waiting.

"Well, that's part of what I wanted to talk to you about, ma'am," Newly said. He seated her on the settee and sat beside her. "But first, you need to know how it was. And I want to be right here with you because this is going to be hard."

Kitty nodded and he continued, "Tonneman's gang, they'd captured some homesteaders as hostages. A wagon full of women and children were set across the track to stop the train. A woman and a girl – they were in the wagon that took Tonneman – and another woman with a boy and a girl – they were tied to a stake and there was brush all around them, and men with torches. They were going to burn them alive if we didn't give them Tonneman."

Kitty choked, remembering Matt's dreams about the burning family. Newly put an arm around her, but he didn't stop talking. "So you see, ma'am. He had to do it. He didn't have any choice. He knew that from the first minute he saw what was happening. And he knew they were going to kill him, ma'am. After that last time when Festus and I got him free from them, Matt knew they were going to kill him right off. And that's why," Newly stumbled over this part, but cleared his throat and went on, "That's why he managed to stop Festus and I from doing anything to help. I'll let Festus tell you his own part, ma'am, but I wouldn't want you to think that I, that either of us, didn't want to help him. He knew, Kitty, he knew what was going to happen, and he set it up so we couldn't interfere."

"That's so like him, Newly," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, it is. He came down from that lookout window, and he told me we weren't to fight. He ordered me, Kitty. He told me I had to stay alive so I could come back and talk to you. Here's what it was. Here's just what he said. He said, 'Part of winning is knowing when to quit. You tell Kitty I love her. And Doc too. Stay alive for me so you can do that.' That was it, ma'am. 'You tell Kitty I love her.' Right there at the end, it was loving you that was on his mind."

She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. So she sat still in the dim room with Newly's arm around her shoulders and his hand holding both of hers. It wasn't a small hand, but it didn't engulf hers the way Matt's huge one would have. Matt would never hold her hands again.

Kitty thought it was over then, but Newly went on. He told her how Matt had stepped down into the wagon. How he'd talked to the engineer. How Tonneman had pulled Matt's own gun and aimed it at him. "But I don't think it was Tonneman that shot him, ma'am. It sounded to me like a rifle shot, and from a little farther away. Tonneman was pointing that pistol at him, and there was a shot, and then he fell, just crumpled and fell into the wagon, and the horses started running, heading south. That was the last that I could see."

"Now ma'am," Newly said, raising his hand to lift her chin to face him. "There's a little more, and you have to hear it." Kitty nodded. What more could there possibly be with Matt dead?

"That woman they were going to burn, that woman and the boy that was with her, they both had bright red hair," Newly said. Kitty's eyes grew wide and she looked up at him beside her. He nodded and went on, "Now we both know that wasn't an accident. Tonneman's men, they knew about you. And that's why I need to tell you this next part. I think those men mean you harm. So I want you to marry me, Kitty. We'll get married right away. I've been saving, and I have enough to start out new. We can go back to Philadelphia. I have family there who would welcome us. There'll be work for me there and I can support you and the baby. You'll be far away from Dodge, and far away from any hurt that Tonneman can do to you. I'll do my best, ma'am, to make you happy, and I'll raise the marshal's baby as my own child."

Kitty's tears did spill over then, but only for a moment. She laid a hand against Newly's rough cheek. "Thank you, Newly. That's more than kind, and just the thing that makes me proud to know you, but," she shook her head, "I'm not going to marry you, and I'm not going to leave Dodge."

"Well, ma'am, that's what I expected you to say tonight, but I want you to think it over. I know I'm a little younger than you, but that doesn't need to make any difference. You're a beautiful woman, Kitty. I've thought that from the first moment I climbed into that stagecoach and saw you. Any man would be privileged to have you for a wife. I want to marry you and keep you safe. Now you don't have to decide right away, but you do have to decide soon."

"I could never marry a man who called me 'ma'am', Newly," she said, and there would have been a smile if she had had a smile in her.

"Then I won't do that again, Kitty," he said.

There was a knock on the door at that point and Festus came in, carrying a tray of food. Newly rose and picked up his battered hat. "I'm going now, Kitty, but I'll be here tomorrow. I'll be here any time you need me."

"Thank you, Newly," Kitty said, and watched him walk past Festus with a nod, and out the door.

"You feelin' any better like, Miss Kitty?" Festus asked. "Sam, he sayed as you hadn't eaten nothin' today, so I brought you up a leetl' sumthin. Ma Smalley, she cooked it up, and brought over a basket for you. Guess lotsa folks been thinkin' of you, Miss Kitty, there's a whole heap a' food downstairs in that room behind the bar. Sam, he's bin a-feedin' anyone who comes in."

"I don't feel like eating right now, Festus." Kitty responded.

Festus set the plate on her table, and uncovered it. He came across the room and lifted her off the settee. She hadn't realized the strength of him. Compared to Matt, all men were small, but she realized as Festus carefully but firmly guided her over to the table that he must be at least six feet, almost a head taller than she was. He sat her down and laid the napkin over the front of her robe. "You jus' try an eat a leetl' bit, Miss Kitty, jus' ta please me, like. An' for the baby."

Kitty tried. A few bites of custard pie went down smoothly enough but the fried chicken and potatoes were clearly impossible. She shook her head and pushed the plate away. "Could you get me a glass of water, Festus?" she asked. He looked around, seemingly for a bucket, and she told him there was a pitcher in the washroom. He brought her the water, and they sat at the table while Kitty sipped it and Festus ate his way through what was on the plate.

Pushing the plate back and covering it with the napkin he had earlier plucked from Kitty's chest, Festus sighed. It was time to begin, and he didn't want to, but he did. "I need to talk to you, Miss Kitty."

"I know that, Festus. Newly told me his side. He said he'd leave you to tell yours." Kitty answered.

Festus shook his head, "Matthew, he done tied me in a knot, Miss Kitty, and he knowed he was a-tyin' it. Just in those liddl' biddy seconds when we first see'd what was a-happenin', why he figured it all out. He tole me I had to stay up in that kew-pole – that lookout tower – and watch and not do nothin' so as I could be his ace in the hole. That's what he said, Miss Kitty, his ace in the hole."

"Then he tole me that he was goin' to ask me ta do sumthin' real hard." Festus stopped and reached out to take Kitty's hand, "I thought then he was gonna ask me to do sumthin' would get me killed, Miss Kitty, an' I was ready. I want you ta know I was ready, but he asked for sumthin' a lot harder. He tole me I needed to be a coward, Miss Kitty. Ol' Matthew he said I needed to be a coward that day so as I could live to take care of you and the baby. Those was his words, Miss Kitty. He said, 'I need you to give me your word you'll take care of them.' An' I did. I gave him my word right there, an' I'll never go back on it. I'll be there fer you an' that baby all the days o' my life. You jus' know I will."

Kitty gripped his hand hard. "I know you will, Festus."

"Now there's a little more here, and I gots to tell it to ya." Festus went on, "Firstest, Matthew he tole me I could say to you that he died well. An' he did. Jus' as tall an' strong as ever. He jus' stood an' looked right straight at that smilin' man while he was shot down. Tonneman, he had Matthew's gun, but he never got the chance to use it, 'cause sommun else shot him with a rifle."

"What does it matter, Festus?" Kitty said bitterly, "What does it matter which of them shot him? What does it matter if he 'died well'? He's dead and that's all that matters to me."

"Well, it mattered like to him, Miss Kitty, or he wouldn't a said it. Dyin' well, that's sumthin' that matters to a man. An' he did. An' he wanted you to know, so I done tole ya'." Festus stopped there.

"Thank you, Festus," Kitty replied softly, "It will be something his son would want to know, and if the baby's a boy, then, when the time comes, we can both tell him." She wondered, even as she said it, if Festus really didn't realize that all the talk of caring for her and dying well were just Matt's way of keeping his friend safe, of forcing his hand against a gunfight. But Festus clearly took every word of Matt's final speech to him as gospel truth, and Kitty knew she would never disabuse him of that. But Festus was speaking again, and she needed to stop and listen.

"… so's then we'll just go back to the hill country and the Haggenses will take good care a ya' while I go after Matthew's killer."

"What? Back to what hill country? I don't understand, Festus." Kitty said.

"I was jus' a-splainin' it to you, Miss Kitty. After you and I do marry, maybe tomorrer or the nex' day, then…"

"I'm not going to marry you, Festus," Kitty said, more sharply than she intended.

"But you gots to, Miss Kitty," Festus went on patiently, "Matthew he gived you to me. Last thing he ever tole me was to take care of you, an' that's the onliest way what I can do that thing."

"I'm not going to marry you, Festus," Kitty said, more gently this time. "I'm not going to marry anybody."

"Well, I do hate to argufie with you, Miss Kitty, but it's a straight out fact you got to marry somebody, and you got to do it mighty soon." His voice was firm and there was a touch of bitterness as he continued, "Matthew shoulda married ya' a long time ago, Miss Kitty. And he shoulda married you right off when he knew the baby was a-comin'. Now, I'm not goin' to hold him to account fer that, 'cause I know his intentions was good, but there's no denyin' he didn' marry ya, Miss Kitty, and now sommun else is gonna need to." Festus' face turned as ornery as that of his mule, "I'll not be lettin' Matthew's child be born without a name, Miss Kitty. I'm tellin' ya now, that is not gonna happen."

Kitty sat without speaking, her hand still in his. She had no intention of marrying anyone, much less being carted off to live among the Haggenses. She was going to stay right here in Dodge and go about her business, and have Doc deliver this baby when the time came. Still, she though pensively, would it be right to have Matt's child born without a father's name? And could she really name the child Dillon? She thought of Matt's fears that carrying his name would make her a target. Surely that went double for a helpless child. She thought of all the times over those early years that Matt had shared his unwillingness to leave a widow and child. _Well, you won that one, Matt Dillon_, she thought angrily, _you didn't even do that much. You left me your child but not your name._

"I want to go back to bed now, Festus," she said out loud. "We can talk about this more in a few days."

"Tha's fine, Miss Kitty." Festus told her, "I don' be expectin' you to fix ev'ry'thin' tonight, I jus' needed to be a-tellin' ya." With great gentleness, and no embarrassment whatsoever, he untied and removed her robe, and tucked her under the covers, leaning over to kiss her forehead and run a roughened hand along her cheek. "I'm jus' gonna sit here beside ya' in this big ol' chair, an' likely I'll fall asleep, too 'cause Newly an' me, we didn' sleep none las' night, but I'll be right here ifn you need me." They were both asleep when Sam came looking in about three, and Festus was still asleep when Doc arrived at dawn.

OoOoO

Kitty let Doc wake Festus and hustle him out of the room before letting on that she was awake. Doc had brought coffee, and a bag of rolls. She sat at the table, and found herself able, with a little effort, to handle both.

"You going to propose marriage to me this morning, Doc?" she asked.

Doc's hooded eyes stared across the table at her. He sipped his coffee and put down the cup. "Yes."

"All right," she said, "Go ahead."

"Festus already propose?" Doc asked.

"Not exactly." Kitty replied, "He told me that after we got married – today or tomorrow I believe it's to be – he'd be taking me off to stay with the Haggenses while he heads out to kill Tonneman."

"You could do worse," Doc said, "Festus is a little rough around the edges but he's a good man and he'd keep you safe."

"Newly's going to do that by marrying me and taking me back to his family in Philadelphia. He's pretty sure Tonneman can't reach me there, and he wants to raise Matt's baby like his own. Festus didn't get to that part, just told me he wasn't going to let the baby be born without a name."

"There's no need to be flippant about it, Kitty." Doc said, "I know it's early days, but they're both good men with honest intentions, still, I think you'd do better with me."

Kitty's voice was small. "Neither of them told me he loved me."

Doc reached out to tip her face towards him and spoke with utter sincerity, "I love you, Kitty. I've loved you for a lot of years, and I think you should marry me. You need a husband before that baby's born, and that's something I can do for you. I'll likely leave you a still-young widow, but it would make me very happy to spend what years I have left caring for you and the child. I have a good business and more money in the bank than I let on. I can support you both comfortably."

"Thank you, Doc." Kitty said, "I'll consider that very seriously, but whatever happens, I want you to know I love you, too." _But I don't love you that way_, she thought, _and I'm not sure I ever could. If I have to marry it's not a marriage of convenience that I want. _ Kitty stood up. "Now, you head out and take care of your business. You told me yesterday that I have to keep living. So I'm going to take a bath and get dressed and go do the books."

Doc kissed her cheek and hugged an arm around her. "See you later, Kitty. You just remember that you're not alone here. There's nothing you have to face alone."

It wasn't that easy, of course. But she did it. Her bath made her think of Matt and the times they'd sported in that big tub. Dressing made her wish she had a right to wear mourning, but she didn't, and mourning clothes didn't belong in a saloon. She settled on a white shirtwaist and a long black skirt, and lovingly pinned Matt's cameo at her throat. She wore very little paint because she wasn't sure she could control her tears throughout the day, so she just covered her freckles with a light dusting of face powder and didn't do her eyes at all.

She stood in the doorway to her room and stroked a hand over the tiny wisp of a child, its presence unsuspected beneath the full drapery of her skirt. It would never, ever, be the same. No matter what she did, she would never love anyone as she had loved Matt Dillon. No one would ever love her as he had. She had told Matt she would wait for him. That would take a lifetime, and she wouldn't hold back from living it, but in some sense she would live it waiting. And when it was over, he would be waiting for her. Bracing her shoulders erect, she locked her room and headed down the stairs.


	7. Estelle

Chapter Seven: Estelle

The girl child slept, utterly exhausted, until a little after noon. Kitty, curious to see the child that Matt had died to defend, was sitting up in Doc's inner room with Ma when she awoke. With prompting, the girl shared, through a mixture of fear and shyness, that her name was Estelle and that she would be twelve that summer. She had no sisters or brothers, no relatives that she knew, but there were names in Papa's Bible. Papa was dead. He'd been shot when the outlaws had come to take her and mamma. Mamma was dead as well; she had been holding Estelle while she died. Ma Smalley told her that was enough for now, and that the men would want to hear more later, but for the moment the chamberpot and then something light to eat and drink were more important.

It was Ma who spoke because Kitty was standing at the window, looking out on the alley, her face working hard to hold back tears. This child, this _child_, had lost everything. Everyone. And she had watched it happen. She hadn't made a conscious choice to love a lawman and have him die. She'd had both parents – all the support and protection and love that she had ever known - torn away from her for no reason whatsoever. Doc's words returned to her, "People die, Kitty. Even people we love as much as we loved Matt. People die and people are born." It didn't make it any better, but it gave her a mite more courage to face her loss.

Ma had moved into the other room to fix the girl's food. Kitty walked over to the bed. She sat down next to the child – the same place she'd sat so many times next to Matt when he was wounded or ill. "Estelle, my name is Kitty Russell. I know you hurt now, and I know you don't understand what's happening, but I want you to know one thing – you never need to worry about where you'll live or what you'll do. I will take care of you. I can't be your mother or your father, but you'll never want for a home. We'll talk more later but you just hold that in your heart against the grief. You will always have a home with me."

The girl's hand came slowly over to touch hers, "But why, ma'am? I'm nobody."

"You're not nobody, you're Estelle. And my man died trying to save your life. That makes your life worth more than you can even imagine." Kitty said, trying to explain something she couldn't understand herself.

"Your man?" Estelle asked, almost whispering, "He was that big man they took off the train and shot? The one who bled so much? The one they slung over a horse and said they was gonna feed to the wolves?"

"Dear God." It was Doc who said it. He and Festus were standing in the doorway.

Kitty turned wide-eyed towards him. "Doc? Doc! They wouldn't do that, would they?"

OoOoO

Estelle knew she was too old to cry. Her mamma had told her that the summer before when they buried the dead baby in the little plot behind the house. She tried to keep back the tears, but a few spilled over. The grey-haired lady came and helped her drink a cup of soup. The little man in the dark suit gave her a spoonful of bitter medicine, and the sweet-smelling lady laid her back and held her hand. She hurt so much – in her body and in her heart – but these people were kind to her. The darkness came over her again.

Doc sent Kitty, still protesting, back to the Long Branch with Festus, and Ma out to eat her own lunch. He sat in his rocking chair beside Estelle's bed and watched her, dozing a bit and thinking. He had heard what Kitty said and she'd been right. Matt Dillon had given his life to save this child, and none of his family of friends were going to let the child want for anything.

He knew that Festus and Newly, and probably other lawmen, were going to want to talk to the girl – especially after that comment about the blood - but he couldn't allow that yet. Awful as it was, he was glad that Estelle's comment about the wolves seemed to have knocked her previous statement out of Kitty's head. He let his thoughts run over what had happened. It was probable, he thought, that they'd left the child for dead. It was even possible that she might have heard something that could help them locate Tonneman. But all that would have to wait until she was stronger. It wasn't as if there were anything she could tell them, or that they could do, that would bring her mother back to life, or Matt Dillon either.

Festus came jingling up the stairs and through the door from the front room, trying vainly for quiet, and hissed at him. "Doc, I've got to talk to that little girl!" 

"Not now you haven't," Doc replied. "That child is not well enough to answer questions. When she wakes up again we can try – but it's going to be quiet and gentle and if she gets excited I'm putting her right back to sleep."

"Doc, you don' understan'," Festus said, "I heared what she said about him bleeding. If there's any chance that Matthew is alive, we'uns got to get out thar an be a-lookin' for him, be a-tryin' to help him."

Doc took Festus by the arm and dragged him from the room, dragged him down the stairs and over to the middle of Moss Gimmick's livery stable. There, in the middle of the big straw-covered room with shafts of light gleaming through the open doors and small windows, he rounded on the younger man in fury, "Don't you _dare_ raise Kitty's hopes, Festus Haggen. Don't you _dare_." Doc shouted. "Even if by some chance the child is right and Matt was still alive when they slung him over a horse and took him away, and I'm not saying that's even possible, he's dead now. Did you hear what that girl said, they were going to feed him to the _wolves_. He's dead, Festus. God knows, I want him to be alive, but he's dead, and I will not have you raising Kitty's hopes just to have her go through this a second time!"

"But Doc…"

"Don't you 'but Doc' me you worthless scum, think of someone else for once in your life. Matt Dillon is dead, and Kitty's alive and carrying his baby. It's her and that child we have to think about!" Doc dropped onto a bale of hay, and rested his head in his hands. "He's dead, Festus, he's dead, and there's nothing any of us can do about it."

Festus settled himself next to the old man. His hand hovered for a moment over his back, and then, finding courage, he laid it gently between Doc's shoulders. "Doc, did you get ainy sleep last night?"

Doc hunched his shoulders, but Festus kept his hand steady. "No, I didn't sleep last night."

"An' what about the night afore, Doc? I know you gived Miss Kitty a sleepin' powder. Did you get ainy sleep yo'r own self?" Festus' hand moved in a slow circle. He knew Doc didn't want to be touched, but he did it anyway.

"No, I didn't sleep that night either, you… you…" Words failed him and he just sat there in the old stable, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands.

Festus stilled his hand but left it spread warm against Doc's back. "Doc, you got to sleep some. You cain't go makin' important decisions for everyone when you ain't slept in two nights. You go there an' sleep some on my bed here in the stable. I'll wake you when the girl wakes up. I promise you I will, Doc. I won't go to questionin' her without you there. But Doc…"

"Yes?"

"What if ol' Matthew wast alive when they pulled him off that wagon?" Festus asked.

"Then he's dead now, Festus. You know that, and I know that, and Kitty needs to know it, too. There's only so much a body can take, and she's taken about more than she can bear." Doc said, and then lowered his voice, "And so have I, my friend, so have I."

Festus walked Doc to the little stable room where he slept and laid him down on the blanket covered bunk. He was asleep before Festus left the room.

OoOoO

Festus found Mollie Parks back in the room with the sleeping girl, and explained to her that Doc was sleeping and that he would wake him when the girl awoke. Then he helped himself to some of Doc's coffee and sat himself down in the big padded chair in the front office to think.

Festus knew that there were some disadvantages to not being able to read, but he'd always felt that one of the advantages was that it kept his mind and memory sharp. If you couldn't write things down, you just had to remember them. When Matt had told him that he was to be their ace in the hole, he'd accepted that job and begun it immediately. Watching carefully out of the windowed cupola he'd had a view of everything that was going on. He'd counted fourteen men, including the two who were driving the wagons. From the time that he and Newly had spent watching the gang when they had rescued Matt previously, he recognized all but four of them. Either those four were new, or they had been away doing something else during Matt's rescue.

Festus sat, his eyes closed, and viewed each man, counting them up, remembering each face, the markings on each horse with any distinction. Fourteen men not including Tonneman, three teams, and a dozen riding horses. It was a lot to remember. He ran them through his mind again. Tonneman needed to come first, but clearly there was someone else in the gang with brains or the rescue wouldn't have come off. Fourteen men, he remembered each and every one, and surely each of them were going to die – but not before they told him what they knew about Matt Dillon's death.

His face pinched, he thought about that death. There had been no question in his mind, at the time, that Matthew was dead. He'd seen men die before and had been sure of what he'd seen. He remembered the tightness in his belly when Tonneman pulled Matt's gun out of his holster and pointed it at the Marshal's chest. He remembered the rifle shot, and the spatter of blood that sprayed out from the right side of Matthew's head. He'd been about six feet up over the men's heads, and not more than fifteen feet away. Newly, looking through the window on Matt's left, wouldn't have seen that spray of blood, but Festus did, and he counted the Marshal dead at that very moment, even as his body was falling limply into the wagon bed. The woman and the girl had been to the Marshal's right, and he thought, now, that spray of blood was probably what the girl meant by "the one who bled so much", but he needed to be sure. There were so many thing that he needed to be sure of.

OoOoO

Estelle felt a little better when she woke again. Her shoulder hurt badly, but she knew where she was, and she recognized the grey-haired lady sitting knitting beside her bed. The woman helped her to drink a glass of water and sat talking to her comfortingly of nothing at all until the doctor and the scruffy man came back.

The doctor untied the bulky bandage from her shoulder and looked at her wound, touching it and pressing it painfully, before tying it up again. Then the scruffy man knelt by the bed. She was scared of him at first, but he had the gentlest voice, and he told her about finding her, and tending her, and bringing her back here so Doc could fix her up.

"Now, honeychild," he said, "We gots to talk about some hard things here, 'an I'd lots rather we didn' have to, but we do. I need ya' to know it's jus' mighty important for you to try to tell us everything that you remember about what happened at the train."

"Do I have to?" she asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, you do. You're the onliest one who can. Ifn there was sumbody else, I'd sure ask them instead, but you're the only one who knows, so you have to jus' be a brave girl and tell us. I'll be right here with you, an' I won' let no one harm you, not a smidge."

"What's your name, mister?" Estelle asked him.

"My name's Ace Haggen, Miss Estelle, and I'm mighty pleased to meet you," he said offering her a slightly dirty hand. Estelle knew to shake hands, her pa had taught her that, although her ma had taught her to make a curtsey.

She shook with the man, and when he didn't say anything more, she began to talk. "We was all in the wagon, all the women and children they pulled up from the different homesteads. I knew most of them, and we was all scared. They took Mrs. Simpson and her children from the wagon special, made her come over to the side so they could get her, and tied them to that post. Seemed like they just took Mamma and me 'cause we was standing at the end and they could reach us easy."

"Now aren' you a smart chile, Estelle," Festus told her in polite wonderment. "Now that's jus' ezzacly the kind o' thing I be'd wantin' to know."

Encouraged, Estelle continued, "They put us in the other wagon, and took us around to the side of the train, to that little yellow caboose, only a caboose should be at the end, and this one was in the middle. Is that the kind of thing you want to know, Mister Ace?"

"Yes'm it shore is. You just keep a-tellin it jus' like you remember it." Festus encouraged her, noting without actually looking that Newly was now standing in the door of the room, listening intently.

"The smiling man, he jumped off the train into the wagon, and then the big man, he was so big he just stepped down, he didn't have to jump. He stood real still, and the smiling man told him what to say, and he said it, telling them to take the train away and not to stop. Then the smiling man asked him if he was ready to die, and mamma, she took me in her arms and she turned away from them and put my head in her shoulder so I couldn't see. She used to do that when I was a little girl and papa was killing hogs, before I got to be big enough to help."

"I didn' rea-lize you was such a big girl, Miss Estelle," Festus said politely, "Why I bet you was a lotta help to your ma and your pa. Now you jus' go on an' tell me what happened next. Don' you be afeared now. Ol' Ace has got ya." Festus reached for the child's hand and held it, secure but not too tight.

She was breathing hard now, and Festus was afraid that Doc was going to make her stop, but he let her continue, tears drifting slowly down her face. "I couldn't see then, but I heard the big man tell them to let us go, he said 'Let the women and children go.' But the smiling man, he said he needed us for hostages, and then he told the big man 'You're gonna be dead." and there was a gunshot and mamma jerked and there was fire in my shoulder where she held me against her, and that's all I remember."

"Tha's jus' fine, little lady, jus' fine," Festus told her. "You got a quick mind and you remember good, I bet you're mighty good at school, ain't ya? I bet you can read just like a growed person."

Estelle nodded, and he went on, "Now Miss Estelle, you tell me about when you was talking to Miss Kitty earlier today, Miss Kitty's the real pretty lady with the red hair, and you tole her that the big man, that was Marshal Dillon, that he was bleedin' a lot. You jus' tell me about that."

"That was later, after we drove a while, and I realized that mamma was," Estelle took a gasping breath, "that mamma was dead. I hurt really bad, and mamma's body, it was layin' on top of me, but I could see a little over her shoulder, and I could see the big man, the marshal, where he was laying in the wagon next to us. The smiling man he was up on the wagon seat, and he didn't look back at us, and we was going real fast."

"What did it look like happened to the marshal, honey? What did you see?" Festus was quiet but insistent, stroking the child's hand.

"His face was all over blood, Mister Ace," she said, "And it looked like it was half shot off, and his eyes was wide open, and the blood was just rolling down over him, and he didn't move at all, so I guess he was dead, too."

"Tha's prolly right, honey, that's just what we were thinkin' our ownselves. Now what about the wolves, Miss Estelle, you said sumthin' earlier about wolves, an' I don' think I quite got that part. Why don' you tell me about that there."

"That was when they stopped the wagon. I closed my eyes because I didn't want them to see me watching, but I heard them. Some men rode their horses right up and got off into the wagon, and they were grunting and cussing while they lifted him, 'cause he was so big an' heavy. And then someone said, "You shouldn't have shot him." And someone else says, "I told you he needed to be killed." And there was another gunshot and a yell, and that first man, I think it was the smiling man, he said, "I was saving him to feed to the wolves." I peeked just a little then, and I saw the poor man, his face all bloody and dripping, and they slung him over the back of one of the harness horses – there was no saddle, just the harness from the wagon, and they tied him to the harness and then they all rode away. I was afraid they would shoot me again, but they didn't, they just rode away, and I hurt so bad and I held on to mamma and prayed that God would take me to heaven with her."

"I'm sorry your mamma's gone, chile, but I'm mighty glad you're still with us, and you jus' rest easy knowin' that we'uns is gonna take care of you from now on." Festus stopped as Doc came up and took the girl's wrist to feel her pulse. He saw the old man begin to shake his head and slipped in one last question, "Did you notice, Miss Estelle, if the marshal's eyes was still open when they put him across that horse?"

"No sir, Mister Ace," she said, "They was closed, and I was glad."

"That's enough, 'Ace'," Doc said, "That's about as much as any of us can take."

"You did fine, baby girl, jus' fine. You was a big help. Now I'm gonna leave you here with Doc and Ma, but I'll come back later to see ya'." Festus rose to his feet and, spurs jingling, walked towards Newly and past him out the door.

OoOoO

"A Sharps," Newly said as he and Festus met in the front room.

Festus nodded his head, "Shorely seems like it."

Doc came in and went over to his desk, picking up a metal slug and handing it to Newly. "I was going to give you this before, but it slipped my mind. It was lodged against the inside of her right shoulder blade and it took a heck of a lot to dig it out."

"So likely whoever it was shot Matt they did it with a Sharps rifle and the bullet got his head and went on through Estelle's mother's chest and on into the girl's shoulder. I can't think of anything but a big Sharps, a buffalo gun, that would do that," Newly said, "And the shooter must have been up just a little higher – maybe on the train – and shooting down at a slight angle."

"Musta been shootin' out one o' them windows in the passenger cars, like, or maybe one o' them liddle platforms between the cars." Festus said, "I'm right shore there weren't no body on the top of the train."

"It looks like someone in that gang wanted Matt dead and didn't trust Tonneman to do it," Newly commented.

"Wael what I want to know," Festus said, "Was ifn that shot really killed him or ifn he was alive when they took him away."

"The girl said his face was half blown off, Festus!" Doc said.

"But she said his eyes was open, Doc, so both his eyes was still there, and she said he was bleedin', an' a body don' bleed onct it's daid, and then she said that when they moved his body offn the wagon, that his eyes was closed." Festus argued. "I ain't gonna tell Miss Kitty, Doc…"

"Just what aren't you gonna tell Miss Kitty, Festus?" came that lady's sharp query as she stepped through the outside door and into the office.


	8. The Suitors

Chapter Eight: The Suitors

It had been more than three weeks since Matt Dillon's death and the men were getting desperate. They'd talked about it earlier in the day.

"Doc, I've proposed ta her half a dozen times. She's always nice about it, Doc, but she jus' doan really listen none." Festus had said, "I'm 'bout ready to jus' pick her up an' haul her off."

"You know you can't do that, Festus," Doc had told him, not liking the calculating look in the deputy's eye.

"Well, Festus is right about her not listening, Doc," Newly had commented, "I've tried several times. She doesn't object, she doesn't say yes or no, it's just like she isn't hearing me."

Doc had swiped a hand across his moustache and stared at them. "She cry any?" he had asked. He'd wished more than once that Kitty would cry, but she didn't.

Both men shook their heads. "Not since that first night, Doc," Newly had said, "And then it was just a few tears, not really crying."

"Doc, we got to get this settled," Festus had declared somewhat plaintively, "We know Miss Kitty's not gonna be safe, nor the child neither, until I get Tonneman, an' I cain't be headin' out to do that until this here is taken care of."

The other two men regarded him somberly. "You're still thinking Matt's alive, aren't you?" Doc had finally said.

Festus had shaken his head, "Not really, Doc. Not really thinkin' or believin' that, but, well, I gotta find his body – there'll be sumthin' left even if the wolves has been at it. Got to talk to men who saw him dead. I got to have more than I do right now, an' I think that's as how Miss Kitty's a-feelin' too. I think that's why she won' do what she oughter about givin' that child a name."

"Well it's going to stop tonight," Doc had said firmly. "It's a quiet night. There's no herds in town this week. I'll ask Sam to close early and we're all three going up there at closing time and have it out with her." Doc knew as he said it that it wasn't a good idea. Had Matt Dillon been around he would have told them it was a very bad idea.

OoOoO

It was only eleven but the Long Branch was nearly empty. The day had been a scorcher and the late July night was still hot despite the late hour. Louie Pheeters, only a little tipsy, was sweeping the floor and waiting for the drink he'd get from Sam when he finished. Doc, Newly, and Festus came walking in, slow and determined, and headed for the stairs. Sam regarded them with a knowing smile and a shake of his head. He understood why they were here. He and Kitty had talked earlier that day, and he was pretty sure none of the three knew what they were in for. The men walked right past without seeing him.

"Penelope and her suitors." Louie commented briefly as the men disappeared down the back hall.

"Penelope?" Sam questioned, not understanding, but Louie just kept sweeping.

It was Doc that knocked on her door, "Kitty, it's Doc, I need to talk to you."

"Come on in, Doc, it's not locked," came her reply from within.

They trooped into the room to find Kitty standing by her window, looking out at the night. She had lost weight, and Doc didn't like it. She wore a dark robe over her nightdress, and her pregnancy, obvious to them, still wouldn't have been to a casual observer. Kitty turned to regard them through wide eyes and whispered, "Oh, my."

"We need to talk to you, Kitty." Doc said.

"You been elected to speak for the delegation?" she asked with more interest than she'd shown any of them in some weeks.

"I suppose I have, if you want to put it that way," Doc replied gathering nods from the other two men.

"Well, have your say," she told them.

"You want to sit down?" Doc asked hopefully.

"No, thank you. I'll just take it standing." Kitty countered.

"Kitty, we've decided…" Doc began.

"_You've_ decided?"

"Yes, damn it, _we've_ decided that you need to make a decision on this right now. Another few weeks and everyone in town is going to know you're carrying a child. You need to either marry one of us now, right now, or you need to leave Dodge and go somewhere that you're not known and where you can take a new name and carry this through as a widow." Doc said.

"You don't think I am a widow, Doc?" Kitty asked. This part was new.

"Yes, Kitty, I think in fact you are," he surprised her by saying. "You and Matt were together for a lot of years, as close, closer even, as most married couples I know – even though you neither of you spoke a word about it. And if you were really Matt's widow with his name and a ring on your finger, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. But in that way, at least, you're not. I think you're being selfish here, Kitty, and it's got to stop."

"Selfish?" He should have noticed the sparks beginning to burn in her eyes, but he listened instead to the calm tone of her voice.

"You gots to think of the baby, Miss Kitty," Festus inserted into the conversation.

"And your own safety, Kitty, yours and the baby's." Newly added.

"And that means I have to marry one of you?" Kitty's voice was tight.

"Yes, Kitty, it does." Doc answered sternly.

"Even a widow's allowed her year," Kitty told them turning again to the window, determined not to let tears fall. She loved each of these men, and she loved what they were trying to do for her, but it wasn't going to work, and they didn't listen when she tried to tell them.

It was Newly who answered her back sincerely, "That's just the point, Kitty. A widow's year is there so that if she has a child everyone will know whose it is. You don't want everyone knowing this is Matt's child," he hesitated and went to put his hands on her shoulders, "I guess I know you do really want that, Kitty, but you also know it's not safe for the child. If you marry now, well, then your baby will be born early, but that happens too often for people to really mind, and the baby will have a father and a name." He tried to turn her towards him, but she wouldn't move. "I know it's not what you want, Kitty, but it's the way it needs to be. You have to accept that. Matt would want that."

She turned on him with such fire that he stepped back sharply, "Don't you _dare_, don't any of you dare, to tell me what Matt would have wanted!"

"Well, I'm a-fixin' to, Miss Kitty," Festus said between courage and irritation. "Nothin' you can say can convince me that Matthew wouldn' want his chile to have a name, and keepin' you an' that chile safe, wael, that's the las' job he gived me so I suppose it's up to me ta do 'er."

"The last thing he ever said to me, Festus Haggen, was to ask me if I'd wait for him until he got back," Kitty declared, "And that's just what I intend to do, if it takes my entire life." _And I'll do my waiting in Dodge City, because if by some chance he ever were to come back, that's where he would look for me_, she thought.

"A' course you will, Miss Kitty," Festus told her, "We'uns all knows that. We don't none o' us expec' ta take Matthew's place. We jus' want what's best and safest for you. That there's why ya' jus' got to marry with one a' us, Miss Kitty, and do it right away."

"He's not coming back, Kitty," Doc said matter-of-factly. "No matter how many times he did before, no matter how much you hope for it, we all hope for it, he's not coming back."

In the quiet after Doc finished, they each heard the swift heavy tread on the stairs. The bedroom door burst open revealing a tall, broad-shouldered cowboy filling the doorway. He was unshaven and his clothes and face were beyond filthy with dust and mud. Ignoring the three men, he strode across the room and pulled Kitty hard into his arms. All the tears she carefully hadn't shed came sobbing out of her, and his own tears made tracks down the face he buried in her hair.

Frank Reardon looked up from Kitty's embrace and met Doc's eyes. A gesture with his chin sent them all out the door, closing it behind them.

"I suppose," Doc said, hat in hand, "That's that."

OoOoO

By the time they had both finished crying, Kitty's face and robe were nearly as dirty as he was. "Where on earth have you been, Frank?" she finally asked, taking the tiniest step back from him.

"It took a few days for Doc's telegram to get to me, Kitty, and I left ridin' south that day, but it took nearly two weeks to get to the rail head in Cheyenne, and then on the train back and forth to get to Hays. I've been riding down from there in the heat the last two days."

"You could have sent a telegram." Kitty said.

"Didn't think it would matter, darlin', you knew I was comin'." Frank answered.

"I knew you would if you could, Frank, but I kept thinking something had happened to you. I was afraid maybe I'd lost you, too." Kitty took a full step backwards. "We've got to get you cleaned up."

Frank ran his fingers over the side of her face leaving a muddy track. "You too, I guess. I'm sorry about that, Kitty." He wasn't apologizing for coming straight to her, she knew, just for the dirt he'd carried in.

"Look, you've used my tub before. The water won't be warm, but hot as it's been it's not likely to be too cold either."

Kitty followed him into the washroom, and washed her hands and face as Frank began pumping water into the tub. She laid out a towel and a bar of soap and left the room as he began stripping off his grimy clothes.

She changed the dirty robe for a clean one and headed down the back stairs. She went back into the small kitchen to assemble bread and cheese and sausage – the makings of the free lunch that graced the bar each afternoon. Festus and Newly were gone when she went into the deserted barroom, but Doc stood at the bar with Sam. Kitty stopped beside them. "Pull me a beer, Sam," she asked.

"You want me to help you carry that up, Miss Kitty?" he asked, filling a foamy mug.

"No, I can manage," she replied setting the mug on her tray. She met Sam's eyes. "Frank is going to stay here tonight." Sam nodded slowly. Doc's head came up like a bird dog, but he kept his mouth closed. Kitty looked across at Doc, ""Frank and I are going to talk tonight, Doc. You and the rest can have him tomorrow, but tonight we're going to grieve." Doc found himself echoing Sam's slow nod.

Sam said. "I'll try to find some clothes and things for him for the morning."

"I have some things of Matt's." Kitty told him,

"Too big," was Sam's laconic comment.

"Less so on him than on another man." Kitty answered and made her way up the stairs carefully balancing the tray.

Doc and Sam watched her go. "I've been waiting for Frank," Doc said. "It surely took him a long time to get here."

"It's a long way, Doc, more than a thousand miles and no roads for a lot of it."

Doc looked over speculatively at the big man behind the bar, "Seems to me maybe I should have been watching you rather than just waiting for Frank."

"Seems to me, Doc, you all should have been payin' more attention to Miss Kitty, and less to what you'd decided was best for her to do." Sam told him.

Doc's hand came up to swipe over his moustache. "I suppose that's true, Sam."

"Doc?"

"Yes."

"Who's Penelope?"

OoOoO

Kitty set the food down on the table and seated herself to wait. She remembered so many times when Matt and Frank had come in from the trail together. So many times the three of them had sat here, in this room, talking late into the night. Matt never talked as much with anyone, even her, as he did with Frank. It didn't seem possible that Frank was here and Matt was not.

She heard water sloshing in the tub and then running out the drain. Frank came in rubbing a towel through his hair. She'd seen most of him before, over the years, but never all of him. He looked at her looking at him and wrapped the damp towel around his waist. He sat and dug in to his cold meal, downing the beer with thirsty relish. "You don't look like you're eatin' enough, Kitty," he told her between bites.

She snorted. "That's what Doc tells me," she agreed.

"Is he right?" Frank asked.

"I guess he is," Kitty conceded. "I just haven't wanted to eat since… well, I've tried, Frank, but I can't get much down."

"We'll work on that," Frank told her. "You have any whiskey up here?" he asked her.

"I thought you'd be dry and want the beer," Kitty said getting up and bringing over a decanter and two glasses from the table by the window.

"You were right," he finished off the last mouthful and emptied the mug. Picking up the decanter he poured them both a full glass. "Toss that off, Kitty," he told her, "We have some hard talking to do, and this will oil the way." They drank and he refilled her glass, but not his own.

"You tryin' to get me drunk, Frank?" she asked, downing the second glass.

"Yes," he replied. He stood up and took her hand, drawing her towards the bed and blowing out the lamp.

Kitty pulled back just a little, "You sure about this, Frank?"

"I'm sure," he told her. "Maria's dead, and Matt's dead, and there's too many ghosts. I need something solid to hold on to, Kitty. I need the comfort, darlin', and you do too. I'm sure not heading anywhere else tonight, and, you'll need to tell me everything that happened. The whiskey will help with that. I don't know anything except what Doc said in his telegram and the little I've heard on the trail."

Kitty lay back beside him in the dark. Waiting. She remembered that Maria had been pregnant when she had died, and was pretty sure what would happen next. She was right. Frank lay on his side next to her, running his hands comfortingly, almost idly, over her body. It took only a few moments for his hands to stop, feeling her belly, and he let out a choking moan, "Dear Lord, Kitty, I didn't know." He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against him, "Darlin', I didn't know. Matt wrote to me about Mannon, but I didn't know you were carryin' again. Did Matt know?"

"He knew, Frank. We were going to get married that next week, after he came back from delivering the prisoner. He had it worked out with Judge Brooker." Kitty said, and went on to tell him something she hadn't told anyone, something only she and Matt had known, "But he wanted to marry me, that last day. Said we should just go have the preacher say the words before he left. I wouldn't do it, Frank. Thought it was bad luck." She started crying again, "I wish I had."

Frank held her and stroked her, kissing her hair and face. There were tears from both of them. And then later there was more.

In the deep quiet of the night, after Kitty had told him everything there was to tell about Matt's death and its aftermath, Frank asked her, "You still set on what you want to do, Kitty?"

She breathed deep and settled back against the pillows. There was comfort in him leaving that decision in her hands. "You want me to marry you, Frank?" she asked.

"Yes I do, Kitty."

"Why?"

"I'd be lying if I said it was just for Matt, but part of it is. A man takes care of his brother's widow – and his child – that's the way of it. Boaz married Ruth. And I'd do it just for that if that was all there was, but you know I love you, darlin'," Frank told her, "I loved you long before Maria, and, well, loving her like I did, knowing that deep kind of love, same as you and Matt had, getting a child with her, that just tells me you and I could find that with each other. It might take some time, but we could wait for it. The waiting wouldn't be wasted."

"What if Matt came back, Frank?" Kitty let the question sit between them.

"Matt's not comin' back, Kitty." Frank's voice was solid. "If you're still waitin' for that, then it's time you stopped."

"But…"

"I heard all you said," he interrupted, "What the girl saw and what she told you. But she wasn't a reliable witness, Kitty, bein' captured like that, bein' shot, her mother dyin' right there. And even if she was, even if Matt was by some chance just barely alive when they took his body away, Tonneman wasn't going to let him live. You know that, and I know that. Hell, Matt knew that. He's dead Kitty, and we both have to accept that." Frank paused, and then added, "No matter how much we loved him, he's gone."

Kitty dropped it. She didn't have to convince anyone. "What you gonna do here in Dodge, Frank? You stayin'?"

"Figured I'd do what Matt asked me and take over as marshal." Frank said, "It may take a few months to convince the War Department, but I'm pretty sure I can convince the town council in an hour or two to hire me as City Marshal in the meantime."

"I'm not going to marry you, Frank," Kitty told him abruptly, needing to get it out. His hands stilled against her, and he waited. "I've got two reasons and either one is good enough. First, you haven't been here in Dodge and there's no way we could even pretend this is your child. Second, I will not be married to a lawman again. I will not."

"Anything else?" he asked, his hands beginning to stir her again.

She nodded against his chest and whispered, "You're too like him, Frank. You always were. I'd feel your hands, like now, and think of his."

"That wouldn't last, darlin'," Frank said, caressing her, "And while it did, I wouldn't mind."

"No, Frank. You asked what I decided and I told you earlier, I'm goin' on with that tomorrow."

"You're going to marry Sam Noonan?"

"Yes," Kitty replied, "I am. Sam and I deal well together. We've been partners for a while, and he's the only one of all of you who's agreed to end the marriage if Matt comes back."

"Sam think Matt's alive?" Frank probed.

Kitty shook her head. "No he doesn't. Festus and I are the only ones who still think that's even possible, but Sam, well, he may just be humoring me, but he's willing to go into this knowing it could end."

"I don't have anything against Sam, Kitty," Frank said, "But you can't deny he's some older than you. You ready to deal with that?"

"Twenty years, almost exactly," she replied, "He's a good man, Frank. He's had a family before and he's happy at the idea of another. With us being partners, him living here the past few years, people aren't going to question my marrying him, and likely not question the baby as much either."

"I'd rather you married me, Kitty," Frank told her, "I think you'd be happier."

Her voice was soft but very firm when she answered him, "I might be, Frank, at least until the first gunfight, or the first time you were shot, or until someone took me or the baby as a hostage to force you to do something you didn't want to do." She stroked her hands over this back, "This is better, Frank, safer. For me and for Matt's baby."

"All right, Kitty. I won't argue with you about it, and I'll stand by the two of you – the three of you – as best I can." Frank's hands moved against her breasts, "So it's just tonight for you and me?" he asked.

"Just tonight. I wouldn't do that to him, Frank, after we're married." Kitty said. "He might agree, but I wouldn't. It wouldn't be fair."

"All right then, Kitty. Just tonight," he told her moving his mouth to kiss her lips and then her neck.


	9. Changes

Chapter Nine: Changes

Belt cinched tight to hold up trousers too large for him, and cuffs folded up on the too long legs, Frank shrugged into one of Matt's work shirts and buttoned it. Matt's socks fit him well enough, and he pulled on his own dirty boots. Kitty had dressed in a skirt and open necked white blouse. They walked down the back stairs to find Sam and Estelle already in the kitchen. Sam was cutting slices of ham and Estelle was competently rolling out biscuits. Her eyes widened at the sight of Frank.

Kitty put a quick arm around her, "This is Frank Reardon, Estelle. He was a good friend of Marshal Dillon's. He came in last night, all the way from Montana. He's a lawman, used to be sheriff up in Hays City." She turned to Frank, "Frank, this is Estelle. She lives here with us now."

Frank offered a large hand and the child took it. "You going to be the new marshal here?" she asked.

"You're a smart one, Estelle," he said, "Yes, I think I am." He crossed the room to offer his hand to Sam.

"Stores'll be open soon, Frank," Sam said, "I'll head over and get you something that fits better. Get the laundry boy to come pick up your things."

Frank nodded in agreement, "This will do for breakfast." His eyes met Kitty's, he looked at the girl and then shifted his head towards the door.

Kitty picked up a stack of plates, "Let's go set the table, Estelle. I don't think this kitchen is big enough for all of us." She led the girl out into the barroom.

"Kitty tells me she's going to marry you, Sam." Frank said when they'd left.

"Yes, sir. That was our plan yesterday. I'll have to see if she's changed her mind." Sam replied, continuing to turn slices of ham in the big skillet.

"She hasn't. Last night… Sam, last night was old times and old friendship. And both of us mourning for Matt. I can't tell you that I wouldn't rather she married me, Sam, but that's not what she wants. Can you and I still be friends?"

"I think we can." Sam replied. "Matt and I were friends, and I miss him bein' here. I told him I'd watch over Kitty, and I will, but if there's anything I learned from Matt Dillon it's that Kitty is her own woman. I wouldn't try to change that."

"We're good then." Frank lifted his nose to sniff then grabbed a rag and opened the oven door. "Biscuits are done." He pulled out the pan and headed out for the barroom, Sam following behind with the coffeepot and a platter of ham.

OoOoO

Dressed more appropriately in new clothes from Jonas' Mercantile, Frank Reardon went in search of Doc and found him in the Marshal's office with Festus and Newly. Greetings and handshakes took more out of them than usual with Matt's death sitting quietly under their words.

Doc was direct. "You going to marry Kitty, Frank?"

"No, Doc, I'm not. I want to, and I asked her. Guess you did, too?" Frank said, and Doc nodded.

"We all done asked her, Frank," Festus piped up, "Me an' Newly an' Doc. She won't have none of us, and I don't know what ta do 'cause that gal surely has to get married right soon."

"She's getting married today, Festus." Frank answered.

"Who to?" It was Newly who came out with it first.

"Sam Noonan."

Doc was the only one not surprised, but he'd suspected last night and had a while to think about it. Festus' mouth split in a grin, "That ol' dog! That's fine news, jus' fine." Newly sat silently at Matt's desk, hat in hand, but he nodded agreement.

"Who's the law here in Dodge right now?" Frank asked after they'd all had a little time to digest the news.

"Guess I am." Newly replied. "Festus, Burke, Sam, and I were all deputized by Matt, but I'm usually the one left in charge."

"There been any problems yet?" Frank addressed Newly, but included the other men.

"A few." Newly admitted, "It's been a little more than three weeks and the word's getting around. Festus and I have run a few men out of town. I expect there'll be more trouble as time passes. War Department might send us a new marshal, but they haven't said yet."

"Not a lot of U.S. Marshals available right now," Frank commented, "At least not ones with experience out west. War Department's spread pretty thin." He looked around the room, meeting each man's eyes, "Anyone object if I take on the job?"

Frank saw the relief in Newly's eyes, and Doc's broad grin, but Festus' eyes were sharp, and his voice hard, "That's jus' the way it needs ta be, Frank, 'cause I got work to do and I need ta be startin' it."

OoOoO

It was a busy morning on all fronts. Frank Reardon, with Newly and Doc in tow, made his way through the town talking with the town council members one by one, and arranging for a meeting at the Dodge House that afternoon.

Leaving Clem to mind the bar, Sam and Kitty, with Estelle between them, stopped by the Oasis to pick up Mollie and Chet Parks and walked across Front Street to the office of the Justice of the Peace. The ceremony took only a few minutes, and Estelle was clearly the most excited of the participants. The two couples dropped Estelle at Ma Smalley's for the afternoon, to start the news rolling, and then went back to the Long Branch. Sam brought glasses and a bottle of good whiskey to the back table, and they toasted the new marriage. "You've done the right thing, Kitty." Mollie told her as the men walked back to the bar.

"Yes, I think I have." Kitty replied. She tried to smile, but her lips couldn't manage it.

Mollie laid a hand on her arm. "It will come right, Kitty. You just have to give it time. Sam's a good man."

Kitty covered Mollie's hand with her own. "He is, Mollie. I trust him. I even love him. But I never expected to marry him."

"Things change. We have to change with them. You need to talk about it, you come see me." Mollie rose, gathered in her husband and partner, and headed back to the Oasis.

OoOoO

Festus came jangling into the Long Branch midafternoon. A nod from Sam sent him to the door of Kitty's office and he entered without knocking. "You got some time for me, Miss Kitty?" he asked.

"Only if you're not going to propose to me again." Kitty replied, and this time she did manage a small smile.

"Naw, I know you're married now, Miss Kitty. Most evrabody's heard that by now," he walked over to the desk and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "You gonna be happy, Miss Kitty?"

"Too soon to talk about happy, Festus, but I'm going to be okay, you believe that," she answered him.

Festus sat down across from her and took her hand. "Yes'm. Takes time to make things like that happen, but you jus' keep a-tryin' an' things'll come out right." He played a bit with her hand, turning the new ring on her finger. "Miss Kitty, I'm a-headed out, and I got a coupla things to ask you."

"You're going out after Tonneman." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes'm. I am. I figure no way you're gonna be safe until I take him." Festus hesitated and went on, his voice stern, "I'm gonna get every one of 'em, Miss Kitty. I got them all in my head, and I'm gonna take 'em one by one. For you. For Estelle. For her ma an' pa. For that family he burned." Festus looked up into her eyes, "For Matthew."

Kitty put a hand briefly against his cheek and then went over and knelt by her safe. She opened it and counted out a pile of bills and a handful of gold and silver coins. "You're going to need money, Festus. For you, for the horses, and to grease your way to more information. Take this to start, and anytime you need more, you send me a telegram."

Festus took the money from her and stored it away in various pockets. "That shore will help, Miss Kitty," he agreed, "And I got one more thing t'ask ya. It's about ol' Buck. I been takin' care of him, ridin' him some to keep him in shape. I'd like to take him with me. Ride him and use ol' Ruth for supplies." He regarded his boots thoughtfully. "I'm leavin' tomorrer mornin' an' I'm not planning on bein' back soon, Miss Kitty."

Kitty took hold of his scruffy chin and pulled his face up to look into hers. "You take Buck, but you be back ten days before Christmas, no matter what. You hear me Festus Haggen?"

"That when the baby's due, Miss Kitty?" Festus asked her, a warm smile spreading over his worn face.

"Yes it is."

"I'll be here. You jus' watch for me."

OoOoO

The Long Branch was full that night, even without a herd in town. Seemed every man in town stopped by to shake Sam's hand and take the opportunity to kiss the new Mrs. Noonan. Kitty put up with it until about eleven and then slipped quietly out the back way and up the stairs to her room.

She checked on Estelle and found the girl sleeping soundly in the room on the other side of Kitty's washroom. Kitty shook her head. She had feared that there would be harsh words about her taking in the girl and keeping her at the saloon, but it seemed no one really cared about a homeless and penniless orphan. Newly had ridden out to the family's farm and packed up everything that seemed worth keeping. Estelle slept under quilts her mother had sewn, and her papa's Bible lay on the stand beside her bed. Kitty had bought the girl two day dresses with a number of pinafores to wear over them, and one good brown cashmere for Sunday when, hand in hand with Doc, Estelle went off to church. School would start in another month, and they'd see what happened then. She closed the door to Estelle's room and went to wash, brush out her hair, and put on a nightgown.

Kitty was lying awake when Sam came to her a couple of hours later. As if he'd done it every night for years, he blew out the lamp and lifted the covers to lie next to her. He held her lightly for a while until she stopped trembling and relaxed against him. "Surely you're not scared of me, Kitty?" he asked, "We've known each other far too long for that. I thought we agreed not to make a fuss over this?"

She took a shuddering breath. "You're right. We're both too old and too well acquainted to act this way. It's just…" She stopped and couldn't go on.

Sam gathered her against him, stroking her hair. "Shh. We've got plenty of time, Kitty. Go to sleep."

And eventually, she did. In the morning, waking with his warm body next to her, it was a different matter and she found him, somewhat to her surprise, experienced, gentle, and thorough. With a bit of patience and a bit of practice, Kitty thought, this needn't turn out too badly. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was what she had, and it was up to her to make it work for both of them. For all of them.


	10. Ace

Chapter Ten: Ace

Frank Reardon spent his afternoon settling in to the marshal's office. He and Doc had opened the safe, found a few personal things of Matt's that they'd boxed and left on a bottom shelf, and counted out and signed a receipt for the money. The blacksmith was busy with a piece of tin, making a badge that proclaimed Frank City Marshal, but he didn't expect that to be done until tomorrow. He was going through Matt's saddle bags and the duffle under his cot when Festus came through the door.

"Mostly just bits an' pieces in there," he commented, "His clothes an' things is mostly over in his room at Ma's place, or up ta Miss Kitty's. You plannin' ta clear out his room?"

"I suppose I need to." Frank replied, "Or just take over livin' there. Doc showed me his will, and I'm his executor, but there isn't much to deal with. A few things of his mother's that go to Kitty. Guns and horses. Some books."

"I done asked Miss Kitty today ifn I could take Buck. You got a problem with that, Frank?" Festus asked.

"Nope."

The men were quiet for a bit, Frank sorting through pieces of harness and extra girths, a rolled up saddle blanket and a worn rain slicker. Finally Festus asked, a little tentatively, "You read and write, Frank?"

This caused the new marshal to look up and meet the other man's eyes soberly. "Yes, I can, Festus. You need somethin'?"

"I got all them men from the gang what did this tied up in my head. I'm not goin' to forget a one of 'em, but I thought, maybe, before I left, I should get somebody ta write it all down – so's sommun else'd know. So's you could be lookin' iffen they come in ta Dodge."

Frank stood up and moved to Matt's desk. He pulled out paper, found a pencil, and looked over at Festus. "Tell me what you know, Ace," he said, and the two of them began.

OoOoO

Festus headed first for Larned, and spent some days talking to the various men who'd ridden with the posse. They'd split up that morning and followed the different trails in pairs, finding that most of them had, after a time, ended up heading south. Two separate trails, one heading due south and one heading southwest, had been marked by blood. He spent extra time talking to two men one night at the Trail's End, buying drinks while he nursed his own beer. "So's you think maybe a coupla them fellers didn't join in with the others?" Festus asked, for about the fifth time.

"Couldn't have," one cowpoke told him. "I been trackin' across this prairie nigh onto twenty years, and that trail led straight towards Great Bend. Now I had to stop after two days and turn around and come back, 'cause that's what the sheriff told us to do, but he was headin' for Great Bend, mark my words. He was a good day ahead of me, had two horses and was switchin' off – I'd never have caught him, but he sure wasn't headin' south."

"Same with my fella, Ace," his other informant told him. "He was headed west, like he was makin' straight for Dodge or Cimmaron. Sure wasn't headin' south towards the Nations."

"But all the rest of them tracks, they headed straight south after a day or so?" Festus asked, yet again.

"We told'ya they did, Ace," the first man said, again. "Down on into the Nations. Those men would've hit the border in at least ten places. My guess would be they had a meetup planned somewhere down in Indian Territory or on through to Texas."

"Seems like that's where I'll have to go, then." Festus said.

As things turned out, luck was with him, and as he rode back through Peters on his way south, Festus noticed a mottled brown pinto at the hitching rail in front of the town's one saloon. Most of the horses he'd seen from the train's lookout were common enough to be hard to identify, but this one and a bright sorrel with a light mane and tail had stood out. Leaving his mounts at the livery, Festus strolled along to the saloon and went in. It wasn't hard to pick out the pinto's rider among the locals drinking at the bar, and Festus recognized the man as one of the three who had held torches. He settled in to wait.

Trailing the man out of town a few hours later, Festus stayed far enough behind not to be seen, and as darkness fell, he made his own small camp beside the road, tethering both Buck and Ruth. Along about midnight he moved off on foot, leaving his spurs behind, and, as he'd expected, found his man camped and sleeping less than a mile further down the road.

The man woke when Festus kicked him, reached for a gun that wasn't there, and then for a rifle that was also missing. "M'name's Ace Haggen, mister, an' you and me gonna have some talk," a voice told him out of the darkness, "And then I'm gonna give you a choice about how you want to die."

He'd expected a harder man, but soon saw in this deserter a lack of guts and a lack of loyalty. By promising to turn him in for trial in Dodge City, he learned a great deal, including that the man didn't think he had much to worry about from the courts. "I never did anything. Just held the torch. I wouldn't have used it. I didn't shoot anybody, and I sure as hell wasn't going to meet up with that bunch again. I lit out west and I been on the road ever since."

Festus didn't disabuse him of the notion that just holding the torch wouldn't get him hung. He just sat, gun leveled at the outlaw's belly, and listened to him talk. The man's name was Anderson, and there was a fair amount of nonsense and griping in his tale, but several pieces of information came through. The man who had shot Dillon was named Shiloh, and it was he who rode the sorrel. The man who'd ordered the killing was Malachai, Tonneman's second in command, and Tonneman had shot him through the left arm when he'd heard what he'd done. Their meeting place was Vernon, Texas, just south of the Oklahoma border on the Great Western Trail. There were more names, Mike, Fedderman, Tiny, Austin, and Big Bill, but no way to tie them to a particular man. And most important of all, Anderson had assumed Dillon was dead, had looked at Ace in astonishment when asked the question, and had only been able to say that Dillon's body had been carried off by Tonneman himself and the big man called Tiny.

Festus pulled out handcuffs he'd appropriated from the Marshal's office and cuffed the man's hands behind his back, running a rope around his ankles and attaching it to the cuffs. Then he settled back against a rock and slept soundly until morning.

No one in Dodge had expected him back so soon and it caused a bit of a ruckus when Festus rode into town the next day trailing both Ruth and a mottled pinto with a handcuffed rider. Newly came into the office as Frank was locking the man up, and both men listened intently to Festus' story.

"So you're headed down to Vernon?" Frank asked when he was done.

"I am. Thought I'd sleep here tonight, have a word with Miss Kitty, and head on out in the morning."

"I'll need to take a deposition for the judge," Frank said. "Newly, you recognize the man, too?"

"Yes, sir. He was one of the ones holding torches. The one nearest the tracks," Newly replied. "But he wasn't part of the gang when Festus and I got Matt away that first time,"

Festus nodded in agreement. "Tha's right as rain, Frank. I don' think this fella had been with 'em long, and he sure didn' like what he saw. You think that will make a difference to the judge?"

"I doubt it, Ace," the new marshal told him, "I doubt it very much."

Festus nodded in satisfaction and took himself off to find a bath before heading for the Long Branch and Kitty Noonan.


	11. Matt

Chapter Eleven: Matt

Matt Dillon woke to pain and heat and darkness. He remembered fevered dreams. He was thirsty beyond bearing. Hands touched his head and face and a cup was held to his mouth. He gulped the water and tried to ask for more, but his voice didn't seem to be working and no more was offered. He tried to raise a hand to his eyes and the blazing pain in his head, but his hands were tied. He seemed to by lying on a hard but moving surface, and after a bit he realized he was in a wagon and that it was moving. He was about to try again to speak when a particularly violent jolt sent him back into unconsciousness.

That was the beginning of a timeless period of waking and sleeping, hot, dry air, and never enough water. He couldn't see at all, but realized eventually that it was because of a bandage over his eyes. Sometimes it was lighter, and sometimes darker. Someone sat beside him, and from time to time he felt hands rubbing something on his face, a woman's hands. He didn't think, and he didn't remember, he just lay in pain waiting, hoping, for more water.

At some point, at one of the dark times, a spoon was held to his mouth and he opened it to receive some sort of soft, tasteless stuff. It hurt his dry throat but he managed to swallow it without choking, and the first spoonful was followed by another, and another. After that there was cold coffee, not as satisfying as the water, but wet nonetheless. He slept again.

The ride seemed to go on forever. No one spoke to him. No one spoke around him. He heard horses and the creaking of the wagon. Sometimes he woke in deeper darkness, and the hard surface beneath him was still. There were coyotes then and frightened nickers from the horses, but when he woke again the wagon was moving, the heat was back, and his thirst was overwhelming.

Eventually he began to remember things. It was the smell of the woman that first triggered his memory. Smoke and leather and sweat and the pungent tang of buffalo fat. He spent that day remembering every word he knew in Pawnee or Kiowa and trying to say them, but they all seemed to sound the same coming from his dry lips and throat. And the Indian woman responded to nothing.

He woke one morning, the wagon still unmoving beneath him, and a warm body curled at his side. "Kitty," he said, getting the word firmly past his lips, and then smothering in the cascade of memories that flooded in from that one word. He stayed awake all that day, counting rest stops, counting the times he was given water, listening for anything that would tell him where he was other than in a wagon on a rough road in the dry heat. There was nothing.

At some point, men began to join the wagon. He heard their horses, and he heard their talk. Some of the names were familiar. He remembered sitting a horse, bound and gagged. He remembered children screaming. He remembered his name, and lifted his tied hands to his chest to feel for a badge, but it wasn't there.

That night, when the wagon stopped, the men hauled him out and tried to make him stand, but his legs crumpled under him and his aching head sent him off into blackness again. He woke back in the wagon, the woman feeding him again, and more water, plenty of water, to follow. The water caused him another problem, and he tried to let her know what he needed. She must have been expecting that because she turned him on his side and unfastened his pants, holding some sort of container for him to piss into.

There were more men now, and Dillon listened to them as he rode, sometimes laying down, sometimes sitting up against the side of the covered wagon. He knew it was covered because despite the heat, he didn't feel the sting of the sun. His head still ached, and the side of his face burned like he'd been branded, but the woman fed him every night and gave him water, enough water, several times during the day. He felt stronger, and the next time the men pulled him out of the wagon, he stood.

"Walk him around, boys," said a voice whose memory chilled Matt's soul, "The wolves won't take him if he isn't fit."

It must have been a week later, after he'd walked every night, that they first put him on a horse. He didn't last very long, and found himself back in the wagon. But the next day they did it again, and the next, and the next. Gradually he found himself, still blindfolded, riding part of each day, his head burning in the sun until one morning the woman put a hat on his head. It shaded him, and helped the pain, but sent the men around him into whoops of laughter.

The air was humid now, and he ended each day soaked in sweat. One morning he heard the men riding away, but the wagon didn't start up to follow. He lay still all day, dozing in the wet heat. At dark he heard men and horses returning, but no one came to get him. The woman fed him, and gave him cold coffee, but it tasted even more foul than usual. His head began to spin, and he was fighting off the blackness when he heard Tonneman again, "You ready for the wolves, Dillon? You just wait and see how you like it. And your woman? You just think about what I'm going to do to her." It was the last thing he heard.

OoOoO

Matt awoke wrapped in some rough fabric and swinging back and forth. He was cold. But for the first time since he'd been shot his eyes were uncovered. He opened them to the dimness of a small wooden room that seemed to be moving, not roughly like the wagon but in giant swells. He was naked, and his hands were untied. He moved them up to feel his face. His fingers tangled in a beard. He moved them higher to where the blazing pain had crossed his face and found a tender scar, nearly as wide as his finger, that ran from his right cheekbone, across his jaw, and down below his ear.

A door opened, and a boy walked into the room and came towards him, stopping beside the canvas hammock in which he swung. "_Meu nome é __Luiz. Luiz,_" the boy said, pointing to himself, "_Venha._" It took the two of them a while to get him untangled from the hammock, and when they did, Dillon found he couldn't stand upright in the low-ceilinged room. The rocking continued, and it was difficult to keep his footing as the boy took his hand and let him through the low door. "_Venha,_" he repeated, pulling Dillon towards a tilted ladder that led up into brighter light.

Matt climbed the ladder and stepped out onto the deck of a ship. He had never seen the sea before, but now it was all around him. Sails creaked above him, and the deck rose and fell. Far across the ocean to his left, the sun rose brightly above the horizon. He wanted to fall to his knees, lay down on the deck, close his eyes and wrap himself in his own arms. He wanted to cry more than he could ever remember in his life, even as a child. But he didn't do any of those things. He stood looking forward through the waves and he said, out loud, "I will go home. I swear I will."


	12. Rio

Chapter Twelve: Rio

The boy was there again, tugging on his hand, leading him back down the ladder. The room in which they stood was large with crates and cartons piled around the walls. No one other than the boy seemed to be about. Matt found himself back in the room where he'd woken, and the boy was opening a chest built along the wall. Luiz rummaged through a variety of clothing and finally held up a pair of loose cloth pants and handed them to the big man. Matt was able, barely, to pull them over his hips and use the attached cord to tie them around his waist. The legs fell somewhere below his knees. He was thinner than he had been, much thinner, and what had been corded muscle in his arms and legs was now slack flesh.

The boy demonstrated how to untie one end of the slung hammock and then indicated that he should undo the other. The hammock was carefully folded in a particular way – the boy did it twice – and then Matt copied the procedure. Back in the main room, the folded hammock was tucked away in a cubbyhole along the wall. Luiz made sure he recognized which one it was, counting down and across several times and then having Matt do the same. He learned his first words in the boy's language, counting one to five.

"_Venha,_" the boy said again, leading him through a door behind the ladder. There were men there, perhaps half a dozen, sitting on boxes and cartons and barrels. They watched him warily, but none of them spoke. The boy went to a hatch at the end of the room and was handed two bowls. The two of them sat on a large box near the hatch and the boy started to eat, using his fingers to scoop out what looked like cooked cereal. Matt did the same. "_Comida,_" the boy told him. Afterwards, there was water in a tin cup. "_Agua,_" the boy said.

The men had mostly remained silent, but as Luiz led Matt out into the main cabin he began to hear one word repeated, over and over. "Sick-a-trees" they seemed to be whispering to each other, whispering and pointing to him. The boy led him up the ladder again, to a deck no longer deserted, and towards the bow of the ship. Matt stopped and asked, "Sick-a-trees?" The boy smiled and reached up to touch the scar on his face and then some of the ones on his chest and arms. "_Cicatriz,_" he said, and Matt recognized his new name.

They went forward into the point of the bow and Luiz indicated two wooden shafts, one on each side of the narrow deck. Without trying to explain, he opened the front of his pants and demonstrated their purpose, then waited while Matt did the same. "_Mijo,_" Luiz told him, and Matt nodded, repeating the word. Then it was "_Venha_" again and the boy led him back to the main deck where a short, spectacled man was standing.

The man was dark skinned and dark haired, dressed in navy blue trousers and light blue buttoned shirt. He looked Matt up and down, and then spoke to him in English, but with a strong Mexican accent. "You are on the _Lobinho_, the Little Wolf, a Portugee ship out of Galveston headed for Rio in Brazil. If you will work, you will eat. If you fight us, we will kill you."

"Why am I here?" Matt asked.

"Someone did not like you, _Cicatriz_," the man said smiling, but it was a sad smile not a vicious one. "If you do not want to be here, then," he shrugged, and waved his hand indicating the sea around them, "There is the ocean. That is your choice."

The man moved away, but Matt called out a question, "Why the boy?"

The man turned, tilting his head quizzically as if this were not the question he expected. "The boy is small and not worth much. Many men, when they find themselves in your position, they become violent. To lose the boy would not be a large loss."

"I will go home." Matt said.

"That is possible. Some men have. Most do not. But you will not go home from this ship," the man replied. He looked up at Matt with what might have been compassion. "My name is Martinez. I am the third mate. I suggest you learn Portugee. Work and you will eat."

Matt worked. Less at first, but more and more each day. The men around him, for the most part, though rough, did not seem particularly cruel or violent – they left him alone or to Luiz. He was by far the largest man on the ship, but then he'd spent his life being the largest man anywhere he went. His skin burned and peeled and eventually turned brown. He was always hungry. The salt pork, cooked grain, and ship's biscuit that he was given was never nearly enough to satisfy his hunger. He built muscle, but stayed whipcord thin.

At night he hung his hammock with the other men in the main cabin and slept. The first weeks he slept deeply, exhausted by the work he did during the day. As he became stronger, it was harder to sleep. His mind was full of turmoil, remembering Tonneman's voice, "And your woman? Just think what I'm going to do to her." He tried to assure himself that Kitty would be protected, but it rarely worked. He tried to imagine what she would do. Surely, she thought him dead. Surely, she would move on with her life. Surely, she would marry. And that was usually the thought that sent him out of his hammock and walking back and forth on the deck under the stars.

Who would she marry? He thought most likely it would be Frank. If he trusted anyone or anything, he trusted that Frank would come to her, and when he found out about the baby, he would marry her. Frank would keep her safe. He couldn't think of a better man to raise his child. And Festus. Festus had given him his word. He would never go back on that. He would be watching out for Kitty. Doc would be there.

Doc. Matt held long conversations with the old man in his mind. Doc's advice was always to take care of himself, and not to fight what couldn't be changed. Not to waste himself on futile battles but to wait for the chances that would come later. Doc always told him that Kitty was fine. "We'll take care of her, Matt. We love her. You know that." That was what Doc told him over and over in his mind, and eventually, he would return to his hammock and try again to sleep.

The morning they sighted land, Martinez came to him with a pair of manacles. They hadn't spoken since that first day. Matt's Portuguese was improving, but apparently English was required for this conversation. "We will stop here for supplies. You will not leave the ship. If you fight me, you will be shot." Martinez jerked his chin towards the rising deck at the stern. Another officer stood there with a pistol pointed at him. Matt held out his hands, remembering the countless times he'd performed this ritual with a prisoner. He remembered the shackles he'd chained onto Tonneman and how little good they'd done in the end. Manacles circling his wrists, Martinez led him to the small room off the main cabin where he had originally awakened, and attached the chain to a bar in the wall. Martinez left, and he was alone for the rest of the day.

As the day faded, and the dim room began to turn dark, Luiz came to him grinning, his hands full of fruit. It was nothing Matt had ever seen before, but he and the boy ate, reveling in the taste after long weeks of ship's fare. Luiz sat with him, talking about the port, the things he had done, the food he had eaten. Matt understood perhaps three words in ten, but it was more than he had known a few weeks before. When Martinez came to set him free, he tried one question. "What is today? What date?"

Martinez unlocked his chains without answering and left the room, but Luiz came close and sat beside him. "_Setembro_" he said. "_Treze_" and held up all ten fingers and then three more. The thirteenth of September. It had been more than two months since the train. Luiz was pulling his hand, vying for his attention. Matt learned the numbers up to thirty-one that night, and the names of all the months.

Between Jamaica, where they'd first made land, and Barbados, ten days later, Matt met the ship's carpenter. Assigned to carry boards for the man, he quickly demonstrated his ability to assist in other ways. He found his way to the tiny cabin stuffed with tools, nails, boards, and blocks of wood, and made himself useful. One day, as the carpenter tried to explain something to him in rapid fire Portugee, Matt grabbed a thick-leaded pencil from a shelf and began drawing on the back of a board. When he left the room, the pencil was behind his ear and he clutched a sheet of paper with a diagram showing him tomorrow's work. The back of the paper was blank. That night he began planning his letter.

Luiz was the key to the plan, but Luiz was, for once, not cooperative. "He will beat me," the boy said, in English and in Portuguese. "Maybe he will kill me." And "No." And again, "No. I cannot."

"_Quem bate tu?_" Matt asked. "Who beats you?"

"Martinez," Luiz replied.

Chained again in the small empty cabin while the _Lupinho_ spent a long tropical day in Barbados, Matt began to wonder about the room. Why was it empty? No other room on the ship was empty. Here there were only a few chests built along the wall, and several sets of bars – like the one to which his manacles were attached. Matt heard voices calling out along the harbor – English voices. Surely Luiz could have found an American ship at this port. Surely any American would carry a letter to be mailed back in the States. It was the only idea that had come to him, but he needed Luiz, and Luiz, smiling, helpful Luiz, would not help with this one thing.

When Martinez came to let him loose, Matt asked him, "What is this room for? Why is it empty?"

This time the man grinned at him in the light from his lantern, but he answered in Portuguese rather than in English. "_As mulheres_." It was a word Matt had never heard. Luiz explained it to him with a few graphic gestures. The women. This was the room where they kept the women when _Lupinho_ transported them from Galveston to Rio. Matt pieced it together over the next few days. None of the men were loath to talk about that cargo, and he learned a whole new level of the language. _Loira. Ruiva. Puta. Porra. _Blondes. Redheads. Whores. Fuck. On most trips, the _Lupinho_ carried women captured in the States to sell to brothels in Rio.

He knew why he was here now, oh, he knew. Tonneman had hated him so much that just killing him wasn't enough – he had to find something worse. And not just shanghaiing him onto the ship. That wasn't nearly enough. It had to be a ship where he would find out what was planned for Kitty. And a ship where he was helpless to act, unable to protect her, where he couldn't even speak the language. Fighting panic, Matt thought again of Tonneman's final words.

But on this voyage, there were no women. Matt was walking the deck late one night, unable to sleep and watching the new stars that rose on the horizon as the ship rounded the coast of Brazil and headed south. He heard a cry from the bow, and going forward towards the heads, he saw one of the men grappling with Luiz. The boy was on his knees in front of the man with his hand raised to hit the child a second time, when Matt grabbed him. "_N__ã__o_." Matt said it quietly. It didn't end there, of course. The fight was short, dirty, and utterly silent – neither man wanting interference from an officer. Holding the seaman's arm wrenched behind his back, Matt said again, "_N__ã__o_." And this time the man agreed. Matt released him, and he walked away. Luiz still knelt, tears on his face, and his pants around his ankles. Matt raised him to his feet with a gentle hand, and the boy fumbled, pulling his pants back up, and working to tie the rope at his waist.

Luiz sniffed and ran a hand across his eyes. "He will hurt you," he said in careful English.

"Better me than you." Matt replied also in English, then, switching to Portugee he asked, "The men… they use you… like that? They fuck you?" He had only learned the word that week. He assumed it could be used for a boy as well as for a woman, and he needed to be very clear.

Luiz shrugged. "Some of them. Sometimes. Pedro he is bad. Worst."

"_N__ã__o,_" Matt told him.

"You cannot stop them." Luiz told him.

"I can."

Fighting was not forbidden among the men. Hurting a man so that he couldn't work, that was. So were knives. Matt had seen other fights on board. The reasons were usually beyond his ability with the language, but he had watched. The next day, he participated. Pedro rammed into him during the morning meal, dropping his bowl of porridge to the deck. The fight ended with Pedro forfeiting his own meal to Matt. There was more over a series of days, but Matt never doubted the final result.

After a week, Luiz came to him. _"Chefe?" _the boy asked. It was a new form of address, but Matt had heard it before. Boss. _"Chefe, _the letter. I try. In Rio, I try."

He had thought it all out, word for word, as he walked the deck at night. He wrote it, printing the letters as small and close as he could. He folded the letter carefully, tucking one end in the other. He had no way to seal it, he simply had to trust. On the front, in letters careful, clear, and large, he wrote:

Mollie Parks, Oasis Saloon, Dodge City, Kansas

"Any American ship," he told Luiz. "Give it to an officer. Ask him to mail it once he's back in the States."

"_Sim,_ _chefe_." the boy replied. "Yes, I try."

Matt slept that night with better dreams. It was dark and Kitty was in his arms. They were in her big, soft bed, and her mouth was sweet under his. There were no words, just warmth and wetness and movement. He woke in the humid heat of the hold, not sure at first where he was, his cock painfully hard. Turning slightly on his side in the hammock he closed his eyes, trying to bring it all back, sliding his hand down to finish what the dream had started.

OoOoO

Kitty woke to chill darkness. There had been troubled dreams, a train, shots, blood, and she was glad to wake and find them gone. She reached over to touch Matt beside her, wanting the comfort of his presence, but instead of bare skin her hand found the soft, well-washed cotton of a nightshirt, and she couldn't stop the tears because suddenly she knew the dreams had been real.

Sam drew her close, holding her head against his chest. "Bad dreams again?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's all right, Kitty," he said, stroking her hair.

"Will it ever stop, Sam?" she asked.

"I can't say as it will, Kitty," he told her gently. "It's been more than twenty-five years and sometimes I still wake thinking Eugenia is with me."

"What a pair we are," Kitty said. She rolled over on her back, her head still resting on his arm. "Am I a disappointment to you, Sam?" she asked quietly.

But at that there was a soft, rumbling laugh. "No, Kitty, you're not a disappointment. I know it's not the marriage you wanted – or the marriage that I had once – but we've done pretty well together, I think." He hesitated a moment, "I do love you, Kitty."

"I know that, Sam. And I love you, too." She paused, "But not like I loved, Matt. I don't think it will ever be like that, Sam. Do you mind?"

His voice was kindness itself, "No, Kitty. I don't expect it to. You and Matt were special. I don't think God gives us that more than once in a lifetime. But that doesn't mean we can't make a good life with what we have left."

"You happy, Sam?" she asked him.

"I am. Happier than I thought I'd ever be again." He touched her cold hand and then her cheek, "Come let me warm you up." He moved her back against him and pulled the quilt up around her shoulders, tucking her close. One hand rested against her swollen belly, and they both smiled silently in the dark at the movement of the baby inside her.

OoOoO

Ace Haggen slept lightly in a room above the Three Flowers saloon. He didn't dream at all. He'd killed two men the night before – one on the way into Houston and one in a gunfight behind the saloon. He'd been trailing three men for more than a month. They'd broken off from Tonneman's gang outside Fort Worth, and he'd hoped to get more information from them before they died. Now his hopes rested on the third man – the one called Mike Granger.

He'd found out a great deal about Tonneman's men in the months he'd been trailing them. He now knew names to put with the faces burned in his memory. And eight of the faces were dead – including Anderson, tried and hung in Hays, Kansas. If Mike Granger came for him tonight, and if he died tonight, there would only be five men left – Shiloh, Tiny, Malachai, Puncher, and Danton. Five men, that is, plus Tonneman.

The saloon was quiet – had been for a while. Festus opened his eyes at the sound of movement at the door. The knob turned softly, back and forth. Without a sound, Festus slipped out of bed and moved to the side of the doorway. As the door slammed open under a heavy kick and shots spattered into the feathers of the mattress and pillows, a six gun moved cold and silent against the head of the man who stood there pointing his own weapon at the bed.

"You wanna tell me where they are 'fore you die, Granger?" Ace asked. There were screams now from the neighboring rooms, and the sound of heavy steps on the stairs.

The man's eyes were wide with surprise. "You let me live I'll tell you," he tried.

"Cain't do that. But I kin make it clean. Not gutshot like as you lef' that Indian woman from up in the Nations." Another gun appeared in Ace's left hand, and this one pressed against the outlaw's belly.

"Galveston. The wolves are in Galveston." The words spurted out of his mouth as he tried to swing his gun hand around towards Ace Haggen, and a bullet sliced cleanly through his temple and messily out the other side.

The city of Houston was not happy with Haggen. Three killings in twenty-four hours was high even for Texas. But his status as a deputy U.S. Marshal, the Kansas wanted posters on the dead men, and telegrams to both the Marshal of Dodge City and the Attorney General of Kansas kept him out of jail. Not to mention the clear fact that Granger had broken into his room and fired first. Houston wanted him gone, and he left – riding south out of town on a big buckskin and trailing a pack mule.

OoOoO

It was the third week in October when the brigantine _Lupinho _sailed into the harbor at Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Matt Dillon was, as usual, chained to the wall in a cabin off the main hold. There was grumbling about that among the crew. Ten weeks with the big man had taught them what he could do in terms of lifting, hauling, and handling freight. No one was pleased to have to unload the ship without him. Nevertheless, he remained sequestered out of sight. Luiz, with the rest of the crew, was allowed to go ashore. Dressed in his best and with his pay jingling in his pocket, he headed off to see the sights, buy a few necessities, and, if he could, to find an American ship. It didn't take long to notice he was being followed, but that didn't bother the boy. He had all day to lose the man.

Luiz bought food from the vendors on the dock and ate with pleasure. He found a chandlery that had a pair of cloth pants actually big enough to fit his much scarred friend, and another, further into town, that provided a shirt that looked like it might even be big on the man. He bought both and a pair of rope-soled sandals with the money provided by Martinez then carefully tucked the change in a side pocket to be returned to the mate. From his own money, he bought a small notebook with a leather cover that tied shut, a comb, a small pair of scissors, needles, thread, soap, and a canvas seabag in which to stuff all his purchases. His remaining coins went for sweets and fruit, and with only one coin left he returned to the docks, far, far down from the place where _Lupinho_ was moored.

It was the correct flag – red and white stripes with the blue square and rows of stars. Luiz lazed about the wharf, sometimes pretending to sleep, sometimes playing with the other boys gathered there, always watching. A big man, almost as big as _Cicatriz_, was returning to the ship. He was dressed well in blue pants, shirt, and jacket – boots on his feet and a billed cap on his head. Luiz shot out in front of him, almost dancing in his urgency. "Please, sir, please. You will help my friend, my American friend?"

The officer stopped. Luiz had chosen well. He looked down at the boy, thought of his own sons, and paused. He let the boy slip a folded paper and a coin into his hand. "To send from the States," the child recited. "Please, sir, please. Very important."

"I can do that, boy," the man replied with a smile, "You want to tell me what it's all about?"

But at that moment hard hands grasped Luiz' arms and pulled him away. "I will take the letter, _señor_." Martinez said, holding Luiz with bruising strength while the boy struggled.

Jedidiah Coffin, first mate on the clipper _Swan_ out of New Bedford, Massachusetts, looked down into the Mexican's eyes. "No, I think not," he said calmly. Other men were swarming down from the _Swan_ to see what the altercation was about. He reached a hand to hold the boy's other arm. "Is this man your officer, lad?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir. No trouble." the boy said.

"The letter, _señor_." Martinez repeated.

Looking at the desperation in the child's face, Coffin said, simply, "No." and turned to walk up the plank to his ship. His captain met him at the rail, and the two men watched as the Mexican walked away, still holding the boy tightly by the arm.

"A problem, Coffin?"

"No, sir. The boy asked me to mail this letter in the States. Said it was for an American friend. The other man clearly didn't want that to happen, but I think I liked the boy better than his officer," the mate replied.

Both men examined the folded, and now very grubby, letter. "Perhaps," the captain suggested, "An envelope would be a good idea? And the address copied in pen?"

Coffin grinned. "Yes, sir. And since we're going east, I though perhaps I'd hand this over to Cooper on the _Mary Theresa_ – he's headed back to New Orleans in another week."

"Good thought," his captain replied. "Always like to do a service for an American friend."

OoOoO

Martinez dragged the boy along, the seabag trailing behind them from Luiz' free hand. When he reached the _Lupinho_ he hustled Luiz up the empty plank and down into the hold. Opening the door to the women's cabin, he thrust the boy inside and closed and locked the door. Luiz would have to go. _Lupinho_ was returning to Galveston, and Martinez couldn't trust him in the American port. Even without the big _Cicatriz_ along, the boy might say too much if he reached the States. No, better for both his prisoners to head for Macau. By the time they came back from China, if they did, it would be too late to matter.


	13. Galveston

Chapter Thirteen: Galveston

Festus Haggen was a literal man. He took things at face value – men, words, actions. But even he had figured out, over the months, that feeding Matthew to the wolves didn't literally mean a wolf chewing on human bones. At first, as a man who'd once spent his time killing and skinning wolves for bounty, he watched carefully for wolf packs and investigated every one he found. In the end he realized that it was costing him time and that there was nothing to find. Whoever the wolves were, they weren't the animals that he'd once hunted for profit. He figured men could be wolves as well.

It was November when he got to Galveston. No one had told him it was an island, and he'd had to stable both mounts in Texas City on the mainland before taking a train across the causeway to the largest city in Texas. He drifted his way around the town, drinking quietly, asking a question here and there about wolves. Men looked askance at him, but shook their heads at the question. It was chance, really, that drew him, after several days, down a back street near the port one afternoon, and stopped him cold at the display in a pawn shop window. Matt Dillon's gunbelt and horn handled Colt hung there under a carefully lettered sign.

Festus walked into the store and began looking around. The shop sold everything a cowboy or a seaman might use or need, or that he might try to trade for a little cash. Clothes, boots, guns, saddles, ropes, leather goods, and canteens nestled next to seabags, knives, heavy cotton jackets, knitted sweaters, and rope soled shoes. After a deal of exploring, Festus found himself looking at the window from the inside and raised his voice to ask the wiry older man behind the counter, "That gun somethin' special, storekeep?"

"Sure is, pilgrim," the man replied, "Why it says right there it belonged to Wild Bill Hickok."

"Now how in tarnation would ya' be knowin' that?" Hagen asked.

The storekeeper shrugged. "Man who brought it in told me. Said he got the gun from a man up in the Dakotas where Hickok was killed." He walked over and picked the gunbelt up out of the window and handed it to Festus. "Sure big enough to have been his. Can't see a normal sized man wearing something like this."

Festus smoothed his hands over the worn, well-kept leather. He'd seen Matthew wearing this belt and this gun every day for years, watched him fill the cartridge loops with bullets, watched him rub the belt with saddle soap and keep it clean and supple. "Well, how much you want for somethin' like this, anyways?" he asked.

"A hundred dollars." The storekeeper replied smoothly.

"Well shucks, 'tain't worth that." Haggen replied and made his way out the door. Several blocks walk towards the center of town brought him to a telegraph office. Hating to do it, but knowing that he had to, he dictated a telegram to be sent to Kitty Russell at the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, Kansas. He crossed the street to a café for a meal, and when he came back an hour later, the telegraph clerk counted out two hundred dollars into his hand. He'd only asked for a hundred, but had suspected Miss Kitty would send more. He stuffed the money in his pocket and headed back to the livery stable where he'd arranged a bed in the hayloft. He tried a few more saloons, and asked a few more questions, but retired early to sleep. He had a very bad feeling growing on him that the questions he was asking wouldn't find answers in the cowboy's side of town.

The next morning, but not too early, he headed back towards the pawn shop near the wharves. He spent an hour or so haggling as only a Haggen could over the price of the gun. When he'd gotten the price down to seventy dollars, he pretended a sudden thought, and directed the conversation towards anything else that might have come in with the gun. "Now ol' Wild Bill, he was a mighty big man. I remember ta seein' him once up in Kansas when he and the Earp brothers came a-visitin' with the marshal up there. Now ifn you had some other things a his, why that might make a difference in people believin' this was really his gun."

The storekeeper pulled a ladder round and poked through some boxes up on a top shelf. "Now here ya are, friend. I just thought these might be worth keeping. Not many men could fit these clothes, but Wild Bill Hickok – men say he was a giant of a man. Thought maybe someday some other big man might come in here and I could sell them. There were boots, too, but they went pretty fast. Now my wife, she washed these, all but the vest, and that's leather. Good leather too."

Festus handled the dun colored britches and faded red shirt, running his fingers lightly over the two small holes in the shirtfront where a badge had hung. He examined the big vest, feeling along the side seams, and then, with very little bargaining he let himself be convinced to buy both gun and clothes for seventy-five dollars. Back in the privacy of his hayloft, with the noon light shining golden through the open doors, he carefully ran his fingers into the small pocket along the inner seam of the vest and pulled out a small door key tied with a bit of green ribbon. "Oh, Matthew," he whispered, "What the heck have you gotten your ownself into?"

OoOoO

Festus' questions changed a bit, as did the places he was asking them. Instead of bars and saloons in the central part of Galveston, he began drinking in the grog shops nearer the harbor. The questions he asked seemed to indicate that he knew a man who was giving him trouble over a woman, and if there might be a way for such a man to disappear. Mostly, he was ignored, but sitting in a back alley and sharing a bottle with a one-armed seaman late one night, he finally heard the words he needed. There was a man, he was told, at a dockside tavern called The Ship, who might arrange for such a thing. Festus waited until his companion was sprawled asleep behind a barrel and walked himself back across town to his stable.

Leaving his hat, spurs, and gunbelt behind, he found The Ship tavern down on the harbor near noon the next day. The painted sign over the door of the inn had a picture of a big ship under full sail, but the back of the sign, only visible from the alley alongside, showed a wolf's head. Festus couldn't read the letters spelling out the name of the ship as the Sea Wolf, but the picture on the back was enough to make him think he'd found the right place at last.

He spent a good part of the afternoon nursing a slow sequence of beers in a dark corner and snarling at anyone who came near him. It was the kind of place where men often came to be alone with their drink, and no one bothered him as long as he bought enough liquor. A little before supper time, with the low sun shining straight through the dirty windows, the man Festus knew as Malachai slid through the front door and down a stairway behind the bar. Festus finished his beer and staggered out the door and back into the alley to piss. A careful walk around the building showed him alleys at the side and back. There were two ground floor doors in back, and a rough staircase leading down from the side alley to a cellar door. The other wall of the tavern was shared with a warehouse, and Festus investigated that building as well. Satisfied with his work for the day, he made his way back to the part of Galveston that felt more like a town than a port and settled himself to think and sleep.

It was long past midnight and the streets were mostly deserted when he set out again, walking quiet and keeping to the shadows. He came in from the other direction and gave his attention not to the still-open tavern but to the warehouse beside it. A knife and a little pressure was enough to unlock one of the windows, and a series of carefully shielded matches let him find a connecting door between the two buildings. Settling carefully behind a stack of crates near the door, he dozed until sunrise.

Long experience in bars and saloons held him in good stead. He knew that the quietest and most deserted times in such establishments weren't late at night, but early in the morning. Listening carefully for any sound, he jiggered the lock, opened the door, and followed a dark flight of steps downward. Half an hour's silent exploration showed him the layout of the cellar, the location of the alley door, and the location of the stairs up to the locked door behind the bar. He walked through the open doorways of several storerooms and found only one locked door inside the cellar. It was behind that door that he heard the snores of several men. Picking his way back up the dark stairs to the warehouse, he left the door closed and headed away from the docks leaving the early morning breeze off the sea behind him.

His first stop was the telegraph office. Then he took the causeway over to the mainland, checked on his mounts, paid for another week of stabling, and headed back to Galveston. He spent the day moving into a moderately priced hotel, sorting and repacking his supplies, and getting himself a bath, a shave, and some clean clothes. Late in the afternoon, he presented himself again at the telegraph office and had the clerk read him the single line that was the response from Marshal Reardon in Dodge City. LES MCNEILL TEXAS RANGER.

His earlier forays into the watering places of Galveston had let him learn where the local law tended to congregate, and he stepped up to the bar at the Texas Star a little before ten to ask with confidence for Ranger McNeill. The barkeep pointed him to a table at the back where a man wearing a Ranger's silver star sat talking with a well-dressed blonde. That man had clearly been looking out for him and rose to meet him at the bar. "Ace Haggen?" he asked. "Got a telegram from Frank Reardon today saying you might be looking for me. What can I do for you?"

Ace looked the short, stocky man up and down, and then nodded his head. "I'm after the men what killed Matt Dillon, Ranger, an' I could use a mite a help."

A long conversation and a chill walk through the town garnered four more men, one wearing a deputy sheriff's badge, and three wearing no badges at all. McNeill and the others were surprised to hear that Ace was looking into the kidnapping of a man, and seemed to be fairly certain that what they would find would be kidnapped women bound for the brothels of South America. The Ship Inn had an evil reputation, and despite various raids, the white slavers who used it as a base tended to return. Their plan was simple and direct. They made their way to the harbor, two men taking each of the three doors into The Ship's cellar, and at precisely four am they shot the locks, broke down the doors, and leaving one man on guard at each door, Ace, McNeill, and Deputy Roger Cumbert set out for the locked room.

A shooting match left Cumbert on the floor with a bullet through his leg, and Danton and Plunder, but not Malachai, standing with their hands raised. "Where's your partner?" Ace asked. More shooting in the hallway answered his question, and McNeill headed towards the shots. Seeing two of them against one gun, Danton and Plunder began sidling apart to divide his fire. Ace, afraid that he might have to kill at least one of them without a chance for questioning was about to shoot when the door behind Plunder opened quietly and a naked young woman stepped silently behind the big cowboy and brought a cast iron stove lid down on the back of the man's head. Danton growled a curse and stuck the woman across the face. Ace Haggen shot him dead.

OoOoO

It took until almost dawn to get things sorted out at the tavern. The inner room had held not one, but two naked women, the other huddled on a pallet on the cold floor. The only other furniture in the room was an old iron stove – missing one lid. All three of the men from Tonneman's gang were dead. The barkeep from above remained in custody, but swore down heaven that he'd had no idea what the men renting his basement rooms had been up to.

Ranger McNeill took charge of the women. Frightened, battered, and wearing a variety of makeshift garments and blankets, he hustled them down the street in the grey light of early day and found them refuge in the rooms above the Texas Star. "I doan understan' this, Ranger. Why ain't you takin' these ladies to the marshal or the sheriff or the po-leece?" Ace asked as several saloon girls and the middle-aged madam he'd seen with McNeill the night before led the women into an upstairs room.

"Because if I did that they'd likely be sold back to another group of slavers before they even got a decent meal." McNeill replied. "Carlotta and her girls will get them bathed and fixed up, maybe let them get some sleep, and tomorrow you can talk to them about what happened." He sighed, "And maybe we can even get them home, if they have a home to go to."

"You mean ta be tellin' me that the lawmen here are in on all this?" Ace said in amazement.

"That's exactly what I'm tellin' you, Deputy. Whoever's been running this operation has for sure paid off the local law, and the only way to see these women clear is if we do it ourselves. Now Carlotta's going to help us with that, and she's the best one to do it. You ain't gonna tell me, Ace, that you don't know a saloonkeeper or two that's worth a half dozen crooked lawmen?"

"Well, when ya put it that way, I'd have to say as I do." Ace replied smiling.

"Glad to hear that, mister," Carlotta said stepping back into the hallway and handing McNeill and Festus back the shirts they'd loaned to help cover the young women. She turned to McNeill, "This one is bad, Les. Those women have both been beaten and pretty much starved. Likely raped, too, although we haven't gotten around to talkin' about that yet. You leave 'em with me until tonight and then you can try having a word with them."

"I'll do that, Lottie, and I thank you." McNeill said, turning Haggen around and heading him down the stairs. "You got a place to stay, Ace? I'd sure like to hole up somewhere today and hear the rest of your story and not be 'round anywhere that someone might be looking for me."

"I surely do, Ranger." Festus told him, "Let's you an' me be a-walkin' afore the sun gets any brighter."

OoOoO

Ace had begun the day regretting that all three of Tonneman's men had died without questioning, but he ended it simply angry that they'd died so easily. When he and the Ranger had returned to the saloon after a late dinner, they'd found the two women able to talk. The first thing Ace noticed, when he saw them clean and decently dressed, was that they both had red hair – ranging from a strawberry blonde on the younger girl, the one who'd killed Plunder, to a deep auburn on the older, a woman of about twenty-five.

The men let Carlotta lead the questioning, and got a name and next of kin for the older woman, but not the young blonde. She told them her name was Julie and that she was eighteen, which no one believed, but wouldn't say her family name or where she'd been taken. "My pa sold me to those men. Sold me outright for twenty dollars in gold, and I'm never in my life goin' back there. Don't care what I do, or if I die, but I'm never goin' back."

The older woman, Susannah, was married and had a husband and two children at home. She'd been captured less than a week before – taken from her farm just south of Houston. Julie told them it had been the middle of October when her Pa sold her, but that she'd been on the road with the three men, and a few others, for several weeks before they arrived in Galveston. She'd been Malachai's woman until then, and he'd kept the others off her, but once in the cellar Plunder and Danton had abused her while Malachai was gone.

The men had taken the women's clothes to keep them from running away. "But I thought my way through that one pretty quick," Julie said, "Made up my mind if there were ever a chance, even a time when there was only one of them out there, I'd hit him on the head and run. I'd rather be naked on the street than in that room and used by those men and who knows what to happen next."

OoOoO

Thanksgiving was a week gone and Festus was beginning to fret at the passing time before McNeill located Susannah's family and got a telegram back from her husband. He was on his way south to pick her up – relieved and eager to have her home despite what had happened. That left Julie. Carlotta told her she had grit and offered her a job, but she wanted out of Galveston, and out of Texas. At that point Festus offered to take her back to Kansas.

"You killed that fella jus' like a Haggen woman woulda done, Miss Julie. I can see you don' wanna go back to your family, whyn't ya jus' join mine? I'll tell folks you's my cousin, and that the Texas Haggenses done sent you back with me to Kansas. Won't be a mite of trouble findin' ya a job an' a place to stay in Dodge."

Julie looked at him with suspicion and didn't answer.

"Now, Miss Julie, you ain't got no cause fer lookin' at me like that," Festus told her, "Ain't I the one what done rescued ya outta that there cellar? Ain't I been helpin' ta look after you an' Miss Susannah while you been here? I know you been treated bad, child, but there's lotsa men in this world ain't like that at all. You c'mon with me an' I swear I'll look after you like my own kin. An' Miss Julie, Haggenses don't never treat their women lik'n your Pa did you. Not never."

"Can I have a gun?" Julie asked, "A gun of my own?"

"Yes'm, you surely can." Festus replied, "I'll get you one afore we go, an' I ever raise a hand to ya, you jus' go ahead an' shoot me dead."

Supplied with a carpetbag, a change of clothes, and a reticule containing several dollars and a loaded derringer, the pseudonymous Julie Haggen agreed to travel to Dodge City with her newly found cousin Ace. McNeill got them quietly across the bay on a small boat. He helped them get Buck and Ruth settled in a freight car, and themselves seated on a train heading first to New Orleans and then north to Missouri. "I'll send a telegram off to Dodge to let them know you're comin'. You tell Frank Reardon he's free to call on me anytime, Ace. You tell him I'll be up Kansas way next spring to look in on him." McNeill said, and then he walked off the train, leaving two uncomfortable but reasonably satisfied people to stare at each other.


	14. Dodge

Chapter Fourteen: Dodge

Kitty Noonan hadn't known exactly what to expect from having a baby, but she hadn't expected it to be either so wearying or so boring. She'd stayed working in the barroom until the middle of September – running an afternoon poker game and then another in the early evening. Those few hours, along with doing the books, handling orders, and doing inventory, had left her exhausted. Before October came around, she'd hired an extra bartender and a couple of new girls – including one who could deal – and retired from the bar for the duration. There was still plenty to do. She found herself sleeping less well and getting up early – at least early for her – to cook breakfast for Sam and Estelle, and send the child off to school. Sam took on the extra work without complaint, and encouraged her to nap during the day and go to bed early at night.

Her upstairs rooms, once a refuge of privacy for her and Matt, now held visitors at all hours. Estelle sat at the big table to do her schoolwork in the afternoon, and Doc, Newly, and Frank dropped in as casually as they had once joined her at the bar downstairs. Ma Smalley made time to join her most mornings, her hands busy with knitting while Kitty sewed efficiently but irritably on baby clothes. Mollie Parks, and other women from the various saloons, dropped in to chat. At Doc's insistence, one of the men took her walking every afternoon.

Half from boredom and half from a desire to pass on her own skills to the child that everyone seemed to be taking a part in raising, Kitty started teaching Estelle about both cards and bookkeeping. Just as Newly taught her about guns and ammunition in afternoons in his shop, and Ma Smalley insisted on twelve stitches to the inch on the seams she sewed, Kitty matter-of-factly answered the child's questions about the work the saloon girls did with candid explanations.

"Do they like that?" Estelle asked her curiously.

Kitty shrugged, "Not all the time. No one likes everything they have to do to earn a living. But most of them do, or they wouldn't be in this business."

"Does it hurt? I would think it would," the girl essayed cautiously.

But Kitty smiled warmly at her and shook her head. "That's because you're still a child, honey, and not ready for something like that yet. When you're grown, and you meet a man you love, you'll find there's not much better in the whole wide world than the pleasure you can give each other."

"But Lizzie and Cora and Helen – they aren't in love with the men they… entertain, are they?"

"Nope. You don't have to be in love, although it helps to care about each other some. And most of the girls who work here do go on to marry. Some people think less of them for what they do, but you never need to. It's a living, like any other. Sometimes girls are forced into it, and that's hard, and a bad thing, but I don't hire girls at the Long Branch unless they're doin' what they choose for their own reasons. Now deal me five hands of seven card stud and let's see what you can do."

OoOoO

Frank came in one November afternoon to find Estelle sewing quietly by the window while Kitty sat sideways on the settee with a pillow at her back and her bare feet in Sam's lap. He was rubbing her ankles and she was reading to him from the newspaper.

"You all look pretty comfortable," he commented, laying a hand against Kitty's hair. "You know it's startin' to snow outside?" Estelle dropped her quilt patch on the chair seat and went to press her nose against the window.

"You want me to take you out for a ride in it, punkin?" Frank asked, and Estelle looked a question at Sam, who smiled and nodded.

"Go put your coat and your boots on, Estelle, and meet me at the back stairs, I've just got to talk to Sam and Kitty for a minute here." Frank told her, and she darted out the hall door.

Kitty looked up, troubled, into Frank's eyes. "Something wrong, Frank?"

"I just got a wire from Ace. You know he's in Galveston?"

"Yes. He wired me for money a few days ago. Seemed to think he'd found something, but he didn't tell me what." Kitty replied.

"Well, now he wants the name of an honest lawman, and that's not an easy thing to find in Galveston," Frank told them.

"You know someone?" Sam asked.

"I do. Texas Ranger named Les McNeill – if he's in town. Matt and I worked with him down in Houston a few years ago. You know anyone in Galveston, Kitty?" Frank asked.

Kitty shook her head. "Used to know a few girls there, but no one who could help Festus. Not even sure they're there anymore. You think this is serious, Frank?"

Frank nodded. "I do. Ace wouldn't ask for help if he thought he could handle it on his own. I'll let you know if I hear anything more, but it's hard just countin' on telegrams and him not knowin' how to read and write. Have to be mighty careful what we say. Kitty? You do me a favor, darlin', and stay inside the next couple a'days?" Frank requested.

"Frank, we haven't seen anything happenin' in Dodge all fall that's related to that business…" Kitty started.

"Well, if things are movin' in Galveston, they might start movin' here as well. Just stay snug up here for a bit. You do that for me?" Kitty nodded reluctantly, noticing that Frank met Sam's eyes and not caring for the look that passed between them. She wondered why he even bothered asking her when it was pretty clear he and Sam had just made an agreement about what she'd do.

"I'll go take Estelle out for a bit. Don't worry about her, we'll be back before dark." Frank said. He walked over to lean down and kiss Kitty's lips but she turned a cheek up to him. Frank took her chin and held it lightly while he kissed her mouth. "Don't fight us on this, darlin', you behave yourself and let us keep you safe, hear?"

Sam chuckled and continued rubbing her feet, meeting her look of irritation with a candid comment, "I'm not stepping in between the two of you without better cause than that, Kitty. Frank and I made our peace, and he holds the line. We all know where we stand."

"You all stand over me like guardian angels flappin' your wings to scare off the buzzards, that's what you do." Kitty replied with some rancor.

But Sam just smiled at her and moved his hands up to rub the muscles on the back of her calves.

OoOoO

Thanksgiving passed with its usual feast, and Kitty entered the last weeks of her pregnancy. Dodge was quiet, and Marshal Reardon was glad that he'd turned down the War Department's offer and remained a City Marshal. There was little out of town work for him to do, but enough within the county to keep him active and still let him sleep in town at night. It was the first of December and he'd received a wire that day from Les McNeill telling him that Ace Haggen was headed home for Dodge and would have a story to tell him. It was mid-afternoon, and he was headed over to the Long Branch to share the news with Sam and Kitty when Hank stopped him on the boardwalk.

"You know those horses you asked me to watch for last summer, Marshal?" Hank said, "Well, there's a mighty pretty sorrel came in this morning with two other horses. I fed and groomed them, but the gent that brought them in rented a wagon from me round about dinner time, and he's got the two bays hitched up to it, and it's just sitting tied up over behind Monk Tyson's warehouse. That big sorrel gelding? Man saddled him up, and he's tied to the rail over by the Bull's Head."

"What did the men look like, Hank?" Frank asked.

"Only saw but one. He came in riding the sorrel and leading the other two. Nothin' special about the fella. Dressed in buckskins. He's over at Bull's place now."

"Hank, you go on over to Newly's shop and tell him I need him out here on the street straight away to watch my back. I'm goin' over to the Bull's Head to have a look." Frank told him. He headed across the street and stopped to smooth a hand along the withers of the bright sorrel horse with a light mane and tail that stood tied to the rail. The saddle was fancy worked leather with a matching rifle scabbard. Frank slid the rifle out slightly – it was an old Sharps buffalo gun. He looked over towards the gunsmith's shop and saw Newly standing there with a Winchester, watching the street and buildings behind him. Frank nodded to him, pleased that Matt's deputy, as he still thought of him, was following his instructions literally. He took one step towards the boardwalk and then stopped as a deep, growling voice called his name from further down the street.

"You ready to die, Reardon?" the man called a second time, and Frank watched as the biggest man he'd ever seen walked into the street. Dressed all in black, and in clothes that surely must have been made for him alone, the man would have stood a head taller than Matt Dillon and was nearly twice as wide. Feeling like the shepherd boy David, Frank turned his back on Newly and stepped into the street to face the Goliath who could only be Tonneman's man "Tiny". He'd always felt that the giant in that story was the one at a disadvantage against David's sling and five smooth stones, and he hoped that his own fast draw and the six bullets in his Colt would do as well.

The man facing him didn't seem to be in a hurry, he walked some nearer, cussing a blue streak of epithets. Frank didn't let himself be pressed backwards, and he didn't turn his head. He was betting this was an ambush, and knew his only job was to face down the big man before him and leave Newly to guard his back. When it finally came, the giant's draw was fast, but not fast enough. He went down firing even with three of Frank's bullets in his chest.

There were more shots behind him, and Frank turned then and threw himself to the left, grimacing as a bullet grazed his thigh, but keeping his gun hand free. Newly stood in the street now, looking up at the balcony of the Lady Gay where a familiar man stood, gun in his right hand and his left hand pressed against his ribs. The man raised his gun to fire, but stumbled backwards and fell as two bullets smashed into his chest, one from Frank's Colt and the other from Newly's rifle.

Both outlaws were down, and Frank, clutching at his leg, left it to Newly to walk over to the hulking black form lying in the street and kick the gun out of his hand. He watched as Newly and another man turned the body over. Newly rose and strode toward him shaking his head. Above Frank, from the balcony of the Lady Gay, a man's voice called down to the lawmen, "It's Tonneman, all right, Marshal, and he's for sure dead."

That was the point at which the men in the street, including Doc hurrying towards Frank with his bag in his hand, were startled by the sound a rifle shot and then five closely spaced pistol rounds from inside the Long Branch saloon.


	15. Macau

Chapter Fifteen: Macau

Martinez came to them late into the night. Matt, seated against the wall with his wrists chained through a bar, woke when the door opened. Luiz, curled at his feet, did not. Martinez carried a lantern. He settled himself on one of the chests and looked at his captives. It was a while before he spoke.

"The letter – that was a bad idea, _Cicatriz_," he said. "The boy will have to pay for it."

Dillon remained silent.

"I thought," Martinez said eventually, "That you cared about the boy."

"I do." Matt replied.

"You may not believe this, Scarface, but I also care about the boy."

"You beat him." Matt said.

Martinez shrugged. "He is a boy. Sometimes he needs a beating. I let him live. I would like to let him live a while longer, but I can no longer keep him on this ship."

"What will you do with us?" Matt asked.

"I am not sure. Perhaps it depends on you. I could kill you both. No one else cares much. The captain has his money."

"Or?" Dillon prompted.

"Or I can put you on another ship. There are two ships here now that would take you. One is good, one is not so good. Both are going to Macau. You know Macau, Scarface?" Martinez asked.

Matt shook his head.

"It is a Portuguese city – far from here."

"In Europe?" Matt asked.

"In China." Martinez told him.

Dillon's mind reeled. Brazil was incredible. China. China was impossible. This could not be happening. Perhaps he had actually died, and this was hell. That made as much sense to his staggered mind as being put on a ship to China. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "China? A Portuguese city in China?"

"The Portuguese, once they had an empire," Martinez said, "Some of them like to remember that once they were a proud people. The captain of the _Rainha Negra_ – the _Black Queen_ – he is like that. He runs a good ship. The _Constanza_ now that is not such a good ship, but the captain, he will pay me for a big man like yourself, and the boy, well, he will take the boy. He likes boys, but they do not live too long."

Matt looked down at Luiz. The child was awake now, understanding enough of what was said to leave his eyes wide with fear. Matt turned to Martinez. "You said it might depend on me?"

Martinez met his eyes. "In my home, in Mexico, they say that some of the men of Texas have honor. This has not been my experience, but then, on this ship there is no longer any honor. Are you a man of honor, _Cicatriz_?"

Matt nodded slowly, "I have… tried to be."

"That is a good answer. Come, I will explain it to you. The captain, he does not know about the letter, but wants you gone. Dead, gone, he does not care, but it must be quiet and it must be tonight. You are a big man, _Cicatriz_, a strong man. I cannot carry you, as the men did who brought you to us. From the _Constanza_, I can bring men who will knock you on the head and carry you to their ship. If I do that, then I will give you a choice. I can kill the boy – perhaps a better choice – or he can go with you. Or…" Martinez stopped.

"Or?" Matt said again.

"Or I can take you both to the _Rainha Negra_. But for that ship, you must sign the ship's articles – and since the boy is too young, you must sign for him as well – perhaps he is your son, it does not matter. But you must go willingly. You must sign and swear. I cannot force you to do this, Scarface. Perhaps, though, you can convince me that you would do it."

They sat there, the three of them, in silence for some time. _I have to go home,_ Matt thought, _I_ _have to get back to Kitty. To the baby. I cannot make this choice. But is there really a choice at all?_ He thought again of Doc's imagined advice – could almost hear the old man's voice -_"Take care of yourself, Matt. Don't waste yourself on battles you can't win. Wait for the chances that will come."_

Matt cleared his throat. "I can give you my word, Martinez. It's the only thing I have."

Martinez nodded slowly. "I will try to believe you, _Cicatriz_, but know that I have a pistol, and that if you fail me, I will shoot the boy. _Venha_."

Taking a small gun out of his pocket, Martinez motioned for Luiz to hold the lantern while he unlocked the chains around Dillon's wrists. Luiz fell to his knees before the officer, imploring him, "_Minha caixa . Por favor, senhor! Preciso minha caixa!"_

"Get it." Martinez said, motioning towards the door with his gun. The boy ran quietly into the outer room.

"_Caixa?_ His… his box?" Matt asked, puzzled.

"It belonged to his parents. It is all he has of them. It cannot hurt for him to take it now." Martinez replied as Luiz returned with a small leather bound box, carrying it by a handle on the side. He stuffed it into the sea bag that still lay on the floor and then picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

OoOoO

In his letter, Matt had said that the work on the _Lupinho_ was like a trail drive. Being on the _Black Queen_ was more like being back in the army. Everything was organized. Everything was done to the chime of bells struck in the officers' mess. The _Rainha Negra _was a larger ship – three masts – and held a larger crew, divided by shift and tasks to hang their hammocks in two separate holds for sleeping. Big, strong, and relatively unskilled, Matt found himself hauling lines, moving boxes, and manning the pumps. No one was about to let a man his size into the rigging, but his solid strength and willingness to learn soon earned him a place.

Luiz was disgusted to find himself not cabin boy, a post already taken, but cook's boy, and worked harder and longer than he had on the _Lupinho_. However, he also got more to eat and he made the most of that compensation. Matt found the food better prepared, but the quantity still too small to satisfy. The bigger ship did serve coffee in the mornings, however, although only one cup, and a grog ration twice a week that Matt was able to trade to one or another of the men for additional food. Sundays, if sunny, were declared wash days. Matt gratefully learned to pull up buckets of sea water to clean himself, his clothes, and Luiz – something the man insisted on and the boy resented, to the amusement of the rest of the crew.

"How old are you, Luiz?" he asked one Sunday, handing the boy the soap and moving to the rail to throw the bucket over for more water.

Luiz scrubbed at himself with vigor but without enthusiasm. Washing was bad enough, having Matt wash him was worse. "I think I am thirteen. Perhaps fourteen. I am not sure."

Matt looked speculatively at the slim, childish body as he dumped water over him. "I would have said more like eleven."

"No, _padrinho_, that is not possible. I was almost ten when we came on board the _Lupinho_, and since then, I have been twice to Macau, many times to Africa, to Mexico, and to America. I think fourteen."

Matt sluiced himself off with another bucket of water. "We? Who came with you onto _Lupinho_?"

Luiz dried himself with his shirt and began pulling on his pants. "My mother, my father, my sister," he said casually, "They have been dead, oh, many years now."

Matt let the subject drop, but he wondered, suddenly, what exactly was contained in Luiz's precious _caixa_. That would have to be a question for another day.

The crossing of the Atlantic was swift, with fair weather and following winds. A little more than three weeks after the night they left Rio, the _Black Queen_ sailed into the African port of Sao Paulo de Loanda. Expecting a village of grass huts, Matt found a bustling city that reminded him more of St. Louis than Dodge. For the first time he was allowed on shore and, with money from the paymaster in his pocket, he and Luiz searched out both food and additional clothing that might be adapted to fit his oversized body. Matt looked for American ships, but found none. He saw Mexican, Portuguese, and Brazilian flags, and a variety of flags he didn't know, but nowhere was there a ship flying the stars and stripes. Pushing the second letter that he had written back into the depths of his pocket, Matt tried to satisfy himself with three days of all the food he could eat, the purchase of a knife, and, to Luiz's great disgust, more soap.

"Why must I wash, _chefe_?" he asked as they sat eating hot stew at a dockside tavern. "Wash, wash, and always wash. To stand naked while you throw water on me." He looked up sideways at the big man, "It is not good for me to be naked on the ship."

Matt thought about that. "Is that why you didn't wash on the _Lupinho_?"

"_Sim, chefe_," the boy acknowledged.

"Does that happen on the _Rainha Negra_?" Matt asked evenly. "Has someone hurt you?"

Luiz shrugged this off. "Not on this ship. I have asked Carlos, the other boy. _O Capitão, _he flogged a man just for trying to fuck Carlos. This ship is better." He regarded Matt darkly, "But I do not like the soap."

Matt laughed. It was the first time he remembered laughing since he'd been taken. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

Matt had, of course, considered running for it, but it didn't take him long to figure there wasn't much place to run. He talked with mates and crewmen from different ships, and learned that he would need papers from his current ship – or the recommendation of an officer – in order to find a berth on one of the better ships. Those that might have taken him without these things didn't seem worth the risk, and although a few ships were headed for Europe or back towards Rio, most seemed, like the _Black Queen_, to be taking on cargo for the Far East.

OoOoO

The outward leg around the southern tip of Africa was the worst weather that Matt had yet seen, and he spent hour upon hour manning the pumps far below deck. It was December now, and day by day he wondered, his arms moving the wooden handles, what Kitty was doing and if she'd had the baby yet – if even that moment, as he worked the big bars up and down while the ship rolled and wallowed, she was laying in her bed above the Long Branch birthing their child. He wondered who she had married, although it almost always came down to Frank, and what would go through his friend's mind when Doc handed him Matt's child. He thought about how Frank's own child, and wife, had died not that long ago, and there was no good way to deal with those thoughts.

On the fifteenth of December, the day that Kitty had thought the baby would be due, Matt was so preoccupied with these ideas that he didn't notice the water creeping up towards his knees in the dark hold, or that he was now alone on one side of the four man pump, keeping pace with the two men facing him. A dipper of water appeared in front of his face, and he was startled to see Luiz holding it. He drank, and came back to the reality of the dark room lit by a single lantern, the heaving ship, the roar of the wind, and the sound of timbers creaking, or possibly breaking. Luiz sat huddled on the top of a barrel that was half drowned in the rising water, his arms wrapped around his raised knees.

"Go back up, Luiz," Matt told him in Portugee, "You don't need to be here."

"If I die, _padrinho_," the boy replied in English, "I do not want to die alone."

_We all die alone_, Matt wanted to tell him, but he didn't. "Stay close, son," he said instead, "We'll make it through."

Amazingly, they did. Dawn found the seas stilled, and the three men who had pumped through the night relieved by a gang of four. As they approached the serving hatch, Matt's muscles burning and cramping with the hours of strain, one of the men who'd worked across from him through the night picked up a double portion of their breakfast porridge and handed it to him. "Two men's work, two men's food," the sailor told him. Matt looked around for objections, and finding none, dug into the warm stuff with his fingers. It filled his belly satisfyingly, and he made his way back to the upper hold to hang his hammock and sleep.

OoOoO

Dillon had thought, riding across the empty plains of the Dakotas, or the deserts of Arizona, that the world was big and man was small. Sailing the Pacific, with no idea how long it would take to reach Macau, to reach _China_, his own insignificance astounded him. The ship was a self-contained little world full of work, food, sun, an occasional storm, and the relentless indifference of the universe. He spoke little, except with Luiz, and tried to hide his lack of Portuguese behind a simple lack of talk. He understood most of what was said to him by this time, and made a point to remember words and phrases he didn't know to get explanations from Luiz. Weeks turned to months, and it was with crippling disappointment that Matt learned that the port they were approaching was not Macau, but Goa on the west coast of India.

Again, it was a Portuguese port, filled with Portuguese ships, and the _Black Queen_ stopped only long enough to unload cargo and take on more. The heat and humidity were sweltering, and Matt thought of the board buildings in a small Kansas town covered in snow. He thought of Festus feeding wood into the little stove in his brick office and wondered if Frank were there, protecting his town. He thought of Kitty holding a baby to her full round breast. He began to walk the deck again at night after Luiz was asleep.

There were green specks of islands scattered all about them now as they sailed east and north towards the coast of China and the Portuguese city of Macau. The winter months turned to spring amid unchanging tropical heat. They stopped overnight in a tiny harbor at one of the islands to take on fresh food and trade with the natives. It was the next day that circumstances broke him out of his reverie and pulled him back into the world around him.

Matt was coiling rope on the deck when he heard Luiz's yell. He headed for the hatch only to see one of the men erupt from it dragging Luiz with him by the arm. The man dropped the boy in front of Matt and spit out a curse. "The boy is a thief." One look at Luiz told him the accusation was true, and without further thought Matt upended him and leveled a dozen hard, bruising slaps onto his bottom. After his first yelp of surprise and pain, Luiz closed his mouth and suffered in silence.

"_Peço desculpas por meu filho" _Matt said. I ask forgiveness for my son. _"Ele não vai fazer isso de novo." _He will not do it again. And then, still in Portuguese, so that the man as well as the boy would understand him, _"Nossa família não roubar." _Our family does not steal. It was more speech at one time than Matt had managed in all his time on the _Black Queen_. The crewman looked him hard in the eye, nodded once, and walked away.

Matt knelt on the deck, bringing his head down to Luiz's level, and cupped a big hand behind his neck, shaking him gently. "Our family does not steal, Luiz," he repeated, "Never."

"I am your son, _padrinho_?" Luiz asked without raising his eyes, "You will not leave me behind?"

"You are my son, _meu filho_," Matt answered him. "I will not leave you behind."

Luiz nodded. _"Nossa família não roubar. _Our family does not steal." He said it in Portuguese and then in English. Then looking at Matt from under his half-closed lashes he said, "You hurt me, _padrinho."_

"I meant to," Matt told him, then, "Go back to work, Luiz."

"_Sim, padrinho."_

OoOoO

April was flowering on the Kansas prairie when the _Black Queen_ finally sailed into port in Macau. As the last crew to sign articles in Rio, Matt and Luiz stood at the far end of the line on deck, and moved slowly forward toward the table where the first mate was passing out pay, and occasionally, papers. Matt listened closely to the conversations around him, learning what to expect. Most of the men were staying with the ship. They would take their week on shore to eat, drink, and whore, and at low tide next Monday they would wend their way back to the ship and prepare to leave Macau. When their turn finally came, the mate looked up at Dillon with some curiosity. "_Ficar ou sair?_ Staying or leaving?" he asked, as he had asked each man.

"Leaving," Matt replied in Portuguese. "Both of us."

The mate began counting out their pay, but as he handed it to Matt he asked, "You will allow some advice, _Cicatriz_?"

"I would welcome it." Matt said, following the conversation without trouble.

"You will not find many American ships in China, and probably none in Macau."

Matt kept his face unmoved and asked, "Why?" then followed it with, "Sir."

The man smiled. "Is it so hard for you, _Cicatriz_, to use that word? The Chinese are not happy with foreigners these days. Americans do not come often to Macau, and rarely to Hong Kong. I suggest you look for a British flag – that ship will be either English or Australian."

Matt nodded, not letting his sinking heart show in his steady eyes. The mate wrote on his papers and handed them to him. "Can you read that?"

Matt shook his head. "The boy can read it to me."

"I will tell you," the man replied, smiling. "It says you are strong, a good worker, honest, and that you speak Portugee and English." Matt let his confusion show and the mate continued. "We are not fools, _Cicatriz_. We hear you talking to the boy." The man tilted his head slightly and raised his eyes, "Also, I know Martinez. I was surprised when he brought you to me. And surprised when I found the quality of what he had given me."

"Thank you, sir." Matt replied, folding the papers and tucking them in his pocket.

"One last thing, _Cicatriz_," the mate said, "Do you know there is an American consulate here in Macau?"

Before they left the ship, Matt tried to split the pay with Luiz, who objected. "Mine is much less than yours, _padrinho_. And it is better for you to hold the money – you are strong and I am not." Matt saw the sense in that and picked out a number of small coins for the boy then divided the rest into various pockets he had sewn into his pants and shirt. Pulling the strap of their seabag, with Luiz's _caixa_ tucked carefully inside, over his shoulder Matt walked down the plank of the _Rainha Negra_ followed by his boy.

OoOoO

With Luiz asking directions, they made their way through the largest city Matt had ever seen. There were far more Chinese than whites, and most signs were in the little stick figures of Chinese rather than in regular letters. It took them nearly two hours to walk from the port to the wide, western-style street filled with stone and brick buildings that housed the foreign embassies. Matt recognized a British flag, and then, atop the much smaller building next to it, the American flag.

Matt walked up and knocked on the door. It was opened, eventually, by a Chinese servant who tried to immediately close it when he saw the huge, bearded man standing in front of him. Matt didn't allow that, and as the servant began screeching, a neatly dressed American man came to the door, shoved the Chinaman out of the way, and yelled behind him for a guard.

"I'm a United States Marshal," Dillon said quickly as the door began to close, "And I need your help."

The man looked at him steadily, but waited until a man in military uniform stepped up behind him before opening the door. "I doubt that sincerely, but at least you seem to be an American. I'll give you five minutes." The well-dressed man turned and walked through a door on the left of the front hall. Matt moved to follow him, but the guard wouldn't let Luiz in the door. "Wait for me here, Luiz," Matt said in English. "Don't leave the steps. I'll be back." He didn't like the scared look in the boy's eyes, but didn't see much else to do. The door closed between them and Dillon followed into the room where his host had led.

The man was sitting comfortably behind a large desk. There were bookcases on the walls and oriental carpets on the floors. The guard had followed Dillon and stood formally at-ease just inside the doorway. "My name is Oliver VanHaes and I am the attaché to the American consul here in Macau. Who are you?"

Matt walked forward and offered his hand, "My name is Matt Dillon and I'm the U S Marshal out of Dodge City, Kansas. I was kidnapped and put on a Portuguese ship in Galveston about nine months ago."

VanHaes neither rose, nor took the Marshal's hand. He steepled his fingers together and looked at the man in front of him. "Why not just say you're Wild Bill Hickok and be done with it?" he asked.

Matt kept his temper and let himself smile. "Bill died up in the Dakotas a dozen years ago, Mr. VanHaes, and I assure you I am exactly who I say I am."

"Do you have any identification?"

"Just my word. I was sold onto a Portuguese ship sailing from Galveston to Brazil. From there I was put on another ship sailing to Macau by way of Loanda and Goa. I need help from the government to find an American ship that will take me home."

VanHaes yawned. "Interesting story, but I doubt it's true. I'm sure you do want to go home. We all want to go home, but you can't just come walking in here with no evidence and expect the government to help you."

"Why not?" Dillon asked. "I've worked for the government for more than fifteen years. It's time they did something for me. I need to go home, Mr. VanHaes. I have family waiting for me that doesn't know I'm alive."

Sitting back in his seat, VanHaes picked up a pen and toyed with it. "Well, that's exactly the point. Matt Dillon was killed last July out in Kansas. It made the papers in San Francisco before I took ship for Macau. So you see, Mister Whoever-You-Are, I know you can't be Dillon, and I'm afraid I haven't any more time for you." His voice rose sharply, "Barker, see him out and see he doesn't come back."

Dillon stood square in front of the attaché's desk. "I think you'll find you regret this day's work, Mr. VanHaes. Believe me, I will get home." He spoke intently, but without threat, and he looked the man in front of him over, committing him to memory. "I expected more from a member of the United States government. I guess I was mistaken." Allowing the guard to take his arm, Matt turned and left. VanHaes, despite his confidence in turning down the big sailor's ridiculous story, felt just a little uneasy, and decided that the visit was likely not worth mentioning to the consul when he returned.

The guard stopped with Dillon just outside the front door. "I'm sorry 'bout that, fella. Mr. VanHaes is from New York. Not used to gents from out west."

"Texas?" Matt asked, taking in the man's accent.

"Yes, sir. Austin," the soldier replied, "Look, you need some money?"

Dillon shook his head. "I just got paid for five months' work. All I need is to find a ship to take me home."

The man shook his head. "Haven't seen an American ship here in a couple of months. Some of the British ships, mostly Australians, head out for Hawaii or San Francisco. I'd say that's your best chance." He held out his hand to Matt. "I'd advise you not to come back here, though. Mr. VanHaes, he wouldn't like it, and I work for him. Nothin' I could do."

Matt grasped the man's hand firmly. "You got a name, mister?"

"Corporal Michael Barker."

"I'll remember that, corporal." Dillon said, "Just like I'll remember Oliver VanHaes."

Picking up Luiz with a glance, Matt settled the bag over his shoulder and turned to walk away. He'd taken about ten steps when there was a shout behind him, and a voice cried out sharply, "Dillon!"

His gut taking over from his head, Matt whirled, dropping the bag and his right hand reaching for a gun that wasn't there. His knees bent into a slight crouch, he faced back towards the guard, his hand still held at his right hip. The soldier looked at him keenly, then nodded once, and went back through the door of the consulate.

OoOoO

"He will not help us, _chefe_?" Luiz asked, skipping along to keep up with the tall man beside him.

"He will not help us, Luiz." Matt agreed, "We'll just have to help ourselves."

"Yes, _chefe_." Luiz replied. "What is it we want to help ourselves to do?"

"We need a ship going to America. Probably San Francisco. Maybe Seattle."

"Then we must to go back to the docks. We need food, _chefe. _And we will need a place to stay." Luiz said.

They made the long walk back to the wharf before choosing a place to eat. The food was odd but satisfying - plates of spicy noodles with small pieces of meat and unfamiliar vegetables. Sausages wrapped in what looked like more noodles. Hot tea served in tiny handle-less cups that were constantly refilled. "So you've been to Macau before, Luiz?" Matt asked when his hunger was finally assuaged.

"Twice, _chefe, _on the _Lupinho_. I can find us a good place to stay." He looked across at Matt, "Do you need a woman, _chefe_?"

A little surprised, Matt shook his head. "I have a woman, Luiz."

"Here in Macau? You have a woman in Macau?" the boy asked in surprise.

"No. At home. I have a woman. I don't need another." Matt said.

"But, _chefe_, your home is a long way from here. A man, he needs a woman. I can find us a room, and a woman for you as well. To cook, and for your bed."

"No, Luiz." Matt repeated.

The boy drank more tea, and filled his cup again. "Your woman. She is _sua esposa_? She has your children? Your house?"

Matt sighed. In all the months they'd been together, he'd never talked about Kitty. "_Ela não é minha esposa._ She is not my wife. But yes, she has my child. She is my lady."

Luiz nodded, understanding the tone and the longing on the man's face, if not all that was behind them. "_Sim, padrinho. Sua dama_. Your lady. _Sua amada_. The one you love. We will go to America and find her."

The two of them had just risen, leaving coins on the table, when screams and a couple of gunshots drew Matt's focused attention to the street. Pandemonium reigned as they stepped outside the door. People were running madly towards them, pushing, shoving, and knocking each other down. At the end of the street a black horse, no possible doubt about it being a stallion, rose on its hind legs and bugled. "Stay back, Luiz." Matt said and stepped into the center of the narrow street, setting himself in front of a bleeding man who lay where he had fallen. The horse, eyes showing white, came straight at him.


	16. The Long Branch

Chapter Sixteen: The Long Branch

The Long Branch emptied at the first sign of the gunfight on Front Street. Sam stood at the batwing doors, looking out, but turned when he heard the door to the office open behind him.

"Kitty, go back in the office and lock the door." Sam told her urgently, turning and walking towards her. But as he did a man in buckskins slid through the side door from the alley and pointed a rifle at him.

"Just walk on over to the bar, mister," the man said, "You too, lady." Sam obeyed, moving towards the bar. Kitty stayed where she was. "Get goin', woman, or I will surely shoot him." Kitty stepped slowly towards where her husband stood. The man moved into the center of the room and addressed Kitty, "Now while everybody's busy outside, lady, you and me are going to head out that back door. We can do it easy like, or I can shoot your barman here and then we can go."

"She's my wife, mister," Sam said, "And you're not takin' her anywhere." He took Kitty's arms and swung himself in front of her, turning his back to the man with the rifle.

"Well, they sure didn't tell me she was married or that she was about to have a damned baby, but I guess neither of those things matters much. I can shoot you, mister, back or front, and 'tain't difficult to get rid of a child once it comes." There were a series of shots from the street, and the gunman in the Long Branch raised his rifle and tightened his finger on the trigger.

"No!" Kitty yelled, grabbing at Sam and trying to pull him out from in front of her.

A single shot from the rifle echoed through the barroom, and Sam fell, dragging Kitty with him. From the balcony above, five measured shots, one after another, hit the leather-clad man standing below. He looked up as the first shot hit, and tried to raise his rifle, but dropped it as more bullets hit him, forcing him back and to the floor.

Doc Adams wasn't the first man through the door, but he was the first to do anything useful. He knelt next to Sam on the barroom floor and ripped at the big man's shirt and vest where a red stain was spreading quickly. Frank Reardon and Newly O'Brien, the marshal's arm slung around his deputy's shoulder, entered through the batwing doors. "What happened here?" Frank said in his lawman's voice, "Anyone see?"

"Sam's been shot, Frank," Doc replied. "I don't know how bad it is. I need to get him up to my office."

Frank gestured to some of the men who stood gawking, and it took six of them to lift Sam and carry him out the door. Doc followed, and Kitty, struggling up from the floor, tried to, but Frank stopped her. "Not right yet, Kitty. You stay just a minute, just one minute, and tell me what happened here."

Kitty turned to where Newly was settling Frank into a chair. "Frank, I have to go up to Sam!"

"I know you do, Kitty, but just let me know what happened." Frank said, his bleeding right leg stretched out in front of him.

Kitty took a breath. "I was in the office and I heard the ruckus start. I came out and everyone in the saloon except Sam was outside on the boardwalk. Sam told me to go back in the office and lock the door, but before I could do it, that man," she indicated the body on the blood-soaked floor, "Came in the alley door and said I had to go with him. Sam stepped in front of me, and I tried to move him, but the man fired his rifle and Sam fell."

"Then who shot this fella?" Frank asked.

"I don't know." Kitty replied, looking around the room. "There was nobody else here."

In the quiet that settled on the room after her statement, Newly heard a soft sob and looked up to the balcony outside the curtained archway to Kitty's rooms. Estelle sat there, on the floor behind the railing, a six gun in her hands. Newly started quickly up the stairs, but slowed as he reached the balcony and walked carefully towards the girl, kneeling beside her. "Was it you, honey?" he asked gently, taking the gun from her.

"Yes, sir," she said in a tiny voice. "I got the gun from Miss Kitty's drawer, and when he shot Sam, I did…" she looked up at Newly, "I did just like you taught me, Newly, I held it in both hands, and I braced it on my knees, and I kept shootin' until I was sure he was dead. But I left one bullet, Newly, like you always told me. I left one bullet in the gun just in case." Newly pulled the girl against his shoulder and let her cry. He'd been teaching her to shoot coyotes, not men, but she'd surely learned her lesson well. He lifted her and carried her downstairs, sitting her down next to Frank with her back to the body on the floor.

"Some of you men get that out of here," he said sharply, gesturing to the dead man, and four men stepped forward to do so.

Kitty was standing with her arm around the child, stroking Estelle's hair, when a sudden, intense look of surprise transformed her face, and her skirt and the floor beneath her were both suddenly soaking wet. Estelle sat up straight. "It's the baby, Miss Kitty," she said, "That's how Mamma's babies always started."

"Newly?" Kitty said, gazing at him.

But Newly was already asking one of Kitty's girls to go for Ma Smalley. He turned to the other girls, standing together just inside the door. "You ladies get Miss Kitty upstairs and into bed. Ma will be with her pretty quick."

"I have to go to Sam, Newly." Kitty stated with determination.

"Not now you don't, Kitty," he said firmly, "You've delivered enough babies to know what's happening here. You let the girls take you up and get you settled. Ma's coming, and I'll be up when I get Frank taken care of. And we'll let you know about Sam as soon as we know anything at all."

"It's too early, Newly! The baby's not even due yet!" Kitty insisted, as Cora and Helen each took one of her arms and started walking her towards the stairs.

"Well, it may be too early, Kitty, but that baby's sure coming now," Newly told her. "Don't you worry, we'll take care of you and Sam both."

OoOoO

It was a long night. Doc did his best with Sam, removing the bullet, stopping the bleeding, and sewing up the wound. Sam took his time about regaining consciousness, and, when he did, Doc let him stay awake barely long enough to reassure him that Kitty was safe before sending him back into a drugged sleep. Mollie Parks came up to Doc's office to sit with him, while Doc hurried over to help Ma Smalley with Kitty, and Newly with Frank.

Frank's wound was shallow but long, and Doc insisted on stitching it before bedding Frank down in Sam's old room at the Long Branch. He wouldn't take any of Doc's compounds, but he did agree to a stiff drink of whiskey, and Doc left Estelle to sit with him, saying that neither of them should be alone right then.

Doc would have called it an easy labor, if he hadn't been too smart to know better than to ever say a thing like that to a woman in childbed. He assured Kitty that Sam was well and resting, and that things were moving along with the baby as smoothly as Ma had told her. Then, just before midnight on that cold December night, Doc delivered Kitty of a small, slightly-early baby girl. Ma washed the baby in warm water and wrapped her in a flannel blanket while Doc and Kitty dealt with the afterbirth. Then Doc held the baby, looking into her deep blue eyes and stroking her few strands of light, reddish hair while Ma cleaned Kitty up, changed her sheets, and got her into a fresh gown. When she was sitting, exhausted but happy, back against the pillows at the head of the bed, Doc handed her the daughter that was all she had left of Matt Dillon.

"I wish…" Kitty said, looking up at Doc, and he heard what she wasn't saying as clearly as if she'd let herself do it aloud.

"I do too, honey, I do too. He'd be mighty proud." Doc leaned over to kiss her forehead. He sat beside the two of them on the side of the bed, taking a few minutes to get his emotions back under wraps. "You want some time alone here, Kitty, or you want to let the others come on in?" he finally said.

She looked up at him in a little surprise. "Newly, and Frank, and Estelle are just down the hall. They've been waiting pretty patiently," Doc told her.

Kitty's eyes seemed to glow as she told him, "Well, you just bring them on in, Doc. Guess we're all family here." Then she added, somewhat embarrassed that she hadn't even thought to ask before, "Frank all right, Doc?"

"He is," Doc said. "He got a bullet crease across the side of his right thigh, but I've seen him with a lot worse, and you have too. He'll need a new pair of britches, right enough, but the leg will heal up fine."

"You take a few minutes coming back, Galen," Ma told him as he left the room, "And I'll get Kitty ready for her visitors." She brushed Kitty's hair and plaited it into a long braid over her shoulder, then brought her a warm washcloth for her face and hands.

Estelle was the first into the room, followed more slowly by Newly helping Frank. Estelle was sitting on the bed and lost in wonder at blue eyes, pale skin, and tiny hands, while Doc moved Matt's big chair over next to the bed for Frank. Newly settled him in the chair and then leaned in to kiss Kitty and take a long look at the baby. "She's as beautiful as you are, Kitty," he told her.

Frank, his eyes sad, just looked at mother and child and tried to smile. His longing for Maria and his own child, the thought of the daughter Matt would never see, along with all the whiskey Newly had poured into him, left him more downhearted than he knew how to handle. "Here, Doc," Kitty said, handing the baby up to him, "You give Frank his goddaughter to hold." Doc placed the baby in Frank's arms and Kitty told him, "Sam and I decided if it was a girl, we'd name her after Maria."

OoOoO

Doc had instructed Kitty, very firmly, that she needed to wait a week before taking the baby outside and up for Sam to see. He'd assumed she understood that meant that she needed to wait a week as well, but the second morning after Maria's birth, Kitty was walking up the stairs to Doc's office on Clem's arm while Estelle proudly minded the sleeping baby. Sam was asleep in the back room, and though he woke when Kitty took his hand and sat next to him, he was pretty groggy throughout her brief visit.

"Doc," Kitty said, as he walked her back to the Long Branch leaving Clem with Sam long enough for Doc to check on the baby, "Doc, is Sam hurt worse than you told me?"

Doc sat her down in the deserted barroom and took her hand. "No, honey, he's not. But look here, Kitty, you need to understand a few things. Sam's a lot older than Matt was, and you know Matt had the constitution of an ox. Never knew a man who recovered as quickly as he did. You can't be expecting Sam to get over this the way Matt would have. It's going to take him time, 'til the end of the week at least, before we can even move him back here to the Long Branch, and then another week or two in bed. He's going to have to take things easy and let that wound heal, young lady, and it's going to be your job to see that he does. Do you understand me?"

Kitty nodded. "I do understand, Doc. I'm just, well, not used to it."

"Well, God willing, you won't ever have to get used to it, and nothing like this will happen again," Doc said.

Kitty's face was somber, "It shouldn't have happened even once, Doc. It was me they wanted, and it was part of Tonneman's vendetta against Matt. Sam shouldn't have had to be involved in that. I tried to push him, to get him out of the way, but he was too big."

"Well, you pushing him just as that shot was fired likely saved his life. But you listen here to me, Kitty Noonan," Doc told her solemnly, "Any one of us would have done what Sam did, but he was the one who was here, and he had the right, honey. He's your husband, and protecting you is one of the things that gives him the right to do. Don't you go cutting him down by talkin' to him, or about him, like that. He's going to be fine. It's just going to take a bit more time than you're used to, and you need to be set to deal with that."

"I'll try, Doc." Kitty said.

"You'll do more than try, missie." Doc warned her, "I won't have my fine surgical work brought into dispute by that husband of yours taking a melancholy and wasting away!"

Kitty smiled and started up the stairs. "Come see Maria, Doc. And you let me work things out between Ma and Mollie and I so that somebody's with Sam while he's recovering. I suppose Estelle can take a turn as well, she's a responsible little thing and she loves Sam dearly."

OoOoO

Doc had wanted Kitty in bed for a week, but she ignored him. Other than being sore in places she couldn't mention in public, and, of course, the awkwardness of bleeding for the first time in many months, she felt better than she had since midsummer. She spent time with Sam each day, but otherwise kept mainly to her room that first week and let Clem and the girls handle the saloon. She took Maria up to visit Sam when she was six days old, and Sam, sitting up in bed, was thrilled with the tiny bundle. Doc gave them some private time together, but wouldn't let Kitty and the baby stay too long.

Back upstairs at the Long Branch Kitty nursed her daughter and put her down in the cradle Frank had made. Searching through her wardrobe she found a long red skirt and lace shirtwaist. Putting on a corset for the first time in months was more difficult than she thought it would be, but, with the weight she'd lost during those difficult days, she managed to get herself dressed in her working clothes. Leaving Estelle with Maria, she headed downstairs to take charge.

It wasn't as easy as she'd hoped, and Kitty found herself working for only an hour or two at a time, and then going back upstairs to the baby for the same amount of time. It wouldn't have worked at all without Estelle, but Kitty made herself a firm commitment that she would have the child back in school after Christmas. Still, with Estelle there, and with help from her girls, Kitty was back running the Long Branch before Doc even let Sam return home.


	17. The Letter

Chapter Seventeen: The Letter

Festus walked into the Long Branch midafternoon on the eleventh of December, a set of saddle bags slung over one shoulder, and followed by a young woman with reddish blonde hair. Surprised wasn't nearly a big enough word for his reaction when he saw Kitty standing beside the bar talking to Newly. "You done had the baby without me, Miss Kitty!" he exclaimed as he hugged her.

Smiling, Kitty told him, "Well, we had some excitement here, and she decided to come a little early. You want to see her?"

"A girl, Miss Kitty? I shore do! Bet she's as pretty as the sun shinin' down from heaven."

"Come on up, Festus. Sam's with her, but it's about time for me to feed her." Kitty said.

"Jus' one leedle minute, if ya don' mind, Miss Kitty." Festus said, turning to Newly, "Can you get Doc an' Frank, Newly. I got somethin' to say an' it's better I jus' say it onct. Oh, an' Newly, Miss Kitty, this here's my cousin Julie Haggen from down Texas way. She's got a bit to say about what went on as well."

Newly tipped his hat to the lady saying, "Miss Julie," then excused himself to Kitty and went in search of the doctor and the marshal.

Kitty drew Festus and the young woman upstairs and got the door closed behind them before Festus began bellowing out questions at the sight of Sam, clearly injured, laying on the big bed. "You'll just have to wait until Frank gets here and tells you about it, Festus, I'm not going to start and then have him start all over." Kitty said. She picked up Maria and handed her over to him. The distraction proved sufficient, although it wasn't long before the baby began fussing for something Festus couldn't possibly provide. Kitty was seated in her rocker, nursing the baby, and Festus was over talking to Sam when Newly returned with Doc and Frank. With a little help from the men, Doc got Sam sitting up in the big chair, introductions were made, and the rest of them settled around the room. No one seemed to know where to start.

"You want for ta go first, Frank, or you want me to?" Festus asked.

"First," Newly said firmly, "We need Estelle here."

Festus shook his head, "There's some a' this jus' ain't fittin' for a child, Newly."

"You're wrong there, Festus," Newly corrected him, "Estelle's been in this from the beginning and she's a right to hear the whole story."

"Newly's right, Festus," Sam agreed catching Kitty's eye and her troubled nod, "Estelle saved my life, and Kitty's too. She's part of this."

"She in her room?" Doc said rising. Kitty nodded and he headed off, returning shortly holding Estelle's hand and seating himself on the settee with Julie on one side of him and Estelle, hand still held warmly in his, on the other.

"You go first, Ace." Frank told him, and he did. It was a tale, and Festus had always been good at telling them, but his voice was harder this time, and the facts came out without elaboration. He told about picking up the gang's trail in Vernon, always many days behind them, losing more time as they went south and he had to double back again and again to find someone who had seen them. He talked about finding the Indian woman they'd left gutshot and dying as she tried to escape them, and about finally beginning, by ones and twos, to catch up with the men as they dispersed across the countryside, but never getting close to Tonneman and the giant called Tiny who protected him. He told them, finally, the details about what had happened in Galveston, letting Julie have her say as well, and ended by saying straight out that Julie was a Haggen now and that was all that anyone in Dodge needed to know about her.

As the flow of words ran down, Festus rose and very gently took the sleeping baby from Kitty, carrying her over to Doc before returning to go down on one knee at Kitty's feet. He laid the heavy saddlebags on the floor and took one of Kitty's hands in his. "Now this part here, Miss Kitty, this is hard, but I gots ta tell ya. When I done sent that tellygram askin' you for money, well, this is what it was for." Slowly he drew Matt's gun and holster out of the saddle bag and laid them in her lap. Then he pulled out the clothing. Kitty, her hands shaking, found the pin holes on the stained shirt where a badge had hung and felt inside the inner vest pocket to remove the small key.

Kitty looked into Festus' eyes, her own heavy with unshed tears. "Where did you find them, Festus? Do you know what happened to him?"

"I got these here things at a pawn shop in Galveston, but I don't rightly know how they got there, Miss Kitty, and that's a fact. It hurts me to say it, 'cause findin' out what happened to Matthew was one a' the reasons I done did this thing, and I cain't tell ya for sure any more now than I could when I left. But I'm gonna tell you what I think, Miss Kitty." Festus stopped for a moment to look at Doc, and then rested his eyes back on Kitty's. "I think ol' Matthew lived through that shootin', an' I think they tooked him, hurt like he was, all the way down there to Galveston, an' then I think they did with him what they was gonna do with those girls they captured, they put him on a boat an' sent him away someplace cain't nobody find him. That's what I think, Miss Kitty, but I cain't say as it's true anymore than someone else can say it ain't."

Sam struggled to his feet, finding Frank's arm supporting him before he made it out of the chair, and walked over to where Kitty sat, laying a hand against her hair. "He could be alive, Kitty. If anyone could survive that, it would be Matt, and if he's alive, he'll make it back. It might take a long time, but you know he wouldn't ever stop tryin'."

"I'm almost afraid to say it, Kitty, but Ace could be right. No way of knowin'," Frank hesitated, his strong arm around Sam's waist helping him to stand, "No way of knowin', darlin', but maybe enough to keep… well, to keep us hopin'. For a while at least."

"Now, Miss Kitty," Festus said, "All this don't make no difference to what we gots to do. Tonneman, and his man Tiny, and that Shiloh what shot Matthew and Estelle and her ma, they's still out there. And I think likely they're headin' fer Dodge and fer you, Miss Kitty."

"They've already been here, Ace," Frank said, settling Sam back in his chair. "Ten days ago. Tiny and Tonneman tried to ambush me in the street while Shiloh used that as a cover to come in and capture Kitty. They had it planned out, but they didn't know I'd have Newly watching my back."

"That how Sam got shot?" Festus asked.

"Yep."

"You kill 'em, Frank?"

Frank walked across to where Estelle sat next to Doc and baby Maria. "I killed Tiny, and Newly and I both shot Tonneman, but Estelle shot Shiloh. Put five bullets in him one after another, just like Newly taught her to do with coyotes," Frank stopped there for a moment, his hands on Estelle's thin shoulders, looking around the room and drawing them all in, "Or wolves."

OoOoO

Kitty wrapped up her evening poker game early, and made her way to the table where the men were drinking and having a quiet talk. Feelings were still too raw for much more than that. The four men rose as she joined them. "I'm goin' to bed, Doc," she told him. "Clem will lock up."

"If you listened to me, you wouldn't even be down here," he told her sternly.

"If I listened to you, Doc, I'd be wrapped in cotton wool and I'd be broke," Kitty replied pinching his cheek. She turned to Festus, "You get Julie settled over at Ma Smalley's, Ace?"

"Yes'm, I got her all set, but, Miss Kitty, you don' need to be a-callin' me that there name no more. I was Matthew's Ace when I was a-doin' the job he gived me. Tha's done now."

Kitty smiled at him. "You did a good job, Festus. You did just what Matt would have wanted you to do." She reached up to kiss his scruffy cheek. "You have Julie come see me tomorrow, will you do that?"

"Yes'm, I will. Good night, Miss Kitty."

"Good night, boys. And thank you all." Kitty said.

After looking in on Estelle, Kitty went to her room and found Sam lying in bed with the sleeping Maria next to him. She went into the washroom to clean up and change into a nightgown that buttoned down the front, then lay down next to the baby, waking her gently and putting her to her breast. Sam watched without comment, his eyes sorrowful, until Maria finished and fell back asleep between them.

"I'll move back into my own room tomorrow, Kitty," he told her trying to keep his voice level.

Kitty was surprised. "I know she cries some, Sam, but I didn't think you'd mind that. I'll keep the cradle right here by the bed so I can get up with her when she wakes."

"It's not that, Kitty." Sam said, "Maria doesn't bother me a bit."

"If you're thinkin' I'll crowd you or hurt you while we're sleepin', Sam, well, I'll try not to, but… "

"Kitty, don't make this harder than it is." Sam requested.

"Sam? Make what harder? Here I was thinkin' maybe tonight we had cause for some celebration…" Kitty's voice petered out as she finally figured out what Sam was saying to her. She drew a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye, "I guess it's not much of a celebration for you, is it, Sam?"

"Kitty, that's not so and you know better than to say it! I can't but be grateful at the idea Matt's alive, but I told you when we agreed to this that I would step out of the way if he came back. I didn't believe it was possible," Sam shook his head, "I know you believed, but I didn't. I didn't let myself. But now, well, now it's time for me to move aside like I said I would."

Kitty reached out to run her hand up and down his arm. "No, Sam, just no," she said, and that was all for a while. Eventually, she gathered up the sleeping baby and put her in her cradle and then, turning the lamp low, returned to the bed and climbed in on Sam's good side. She lay facing him. "Now you listen to me, Sam Noonan. Maybe things changed for you today, but they didn't change for me. I've always thought, hoped, prayed that Matt might still be alive. And I married you thinkin' that. What Festus found down there in Texas, well, it gives me a little more hope, and I'd be lyin' if I didn't say I treasure that. But Sam, nothing's changed between you and me." Kitty put a hand on either side of his face, glaring down his misery. "We cannot spend our lives waiting for something that may never happen. I made up my mind to that, and I thought you had, too. You're my husband and I'm your wife, and until the day Matt walks through that door… well that's how it is."

"It's not that simple, Kitty, and you know it." Sam told her.

"It's never been that simple, Sam, and we did it anyway. Now we see it through." Kitty said. She sat up and got a handkerchief from beside the bed - there were going to tears but she wasn't going to let them distract her - then turned herself to sit against the foot board where she and Sam could see each other plain. "Okay, partner, let's talk about this. You going to leave me?"

"Kitty, that's not what I said." Sam replied.

"I need to get it clear, Sam. I never meant for you to get hurt by this." Kitty gave a sigh, "I suppose that sounds downright foolish after everything that's happened, but I never thought it would come to you bein' shot, and when we started this whole thing, well, it seemed like we were close enough friends we could just make a deal and carry it through. I never counted on getting… used… to you being such a big part of my life, Sam."

"Kitty you need to understand that the only reason I agreed to a marriage – as opposed to just givin' you and the baby my name – was because I was absolutely sure Matt was dead. Yes, I told you I'd give you a divorce if he came back, and I meant it, and I will, but I never thought that would happen. I thought it was just a way to make the whole thing easier for you." Sam stopped again, and when he went on his voice was almost hard, "Kitty, I love you, I have for years, but not the way Matt did… does. If I'd had any notion Matt was alive, I could not have done this. A man doesn't do that to his friend."

"Really, Sam? I think you've acted Matt's friend, and I think he'd thank you for it. When I told you we were too good of friends to make a fuss about sharing a bed, I honestly meant that, and I still do. I didn't think it would be that important to either of us." Kitty lowered her voice but it was still perfectly clear, "And I didn't want my husband feelin' he needed to keep on visiting Mollie on Thursday nights." Sam met her gaze and nodded before she went on. It had never been much of a secret. "What I thought was that if we were going to make a new life, well, that we'd just do it right."

"You've done that, Kitty. I think we both have." Sam said, "I've tried not to make too many demands on you, but you've never turned me down, never let me feel like anything but your husband."

Kitty kept her face calm despite the tears she had to wipe away. "You know I love Matt more than anything, anyone, I've ever known. Sam I'm tryin' to be honest with myself as well as you here, but you know that if he comes back, and I know that's a mighty big "if", you know I'm going to want to leave you and marry him. We agreed on that, both of us. We agreed that if Matt came back we'd sell the Long Branch, split the money, and you'd give me a divorce."

"Yes, we did." Sam said.

"But we also agreed that until that time, we'd be married to each other." Kitty said, "I see now that you thought that would be the rest of our lives, and I thought, hoped, it wouldn't. I'm feeling now like I cheated you, Sam."

"You didn't cheat me, Kitty. I knew you believed Matt might be alive, but you're too fine a woman, too honest a woman, to go half measures on anything, especially a marriage. I understood that. I still do."

"I have a bad feeling this isn't the last time we'll be havin' this conversation, Sam, but how about we just go on with things like they are for a while at least? Until you're well again, and I'm over havin' the baby. Then if you want to leave me, I suppose we'll work that out."

"I don't want to leave you, Kitty." Sam told her. "I may have to but that doesn't have anything to do with wanting to."

"But not tonight."

"No, not tonight. Come to bed, Kitty." Sam said, lifting the quilts and holding out a hand to her, "Maria's going to be awake in another couple of hours. You need to sleep."

OoOoO

Christmas came and passed. Kitty opened the Long Branch for her usual party on Christmas Eve, and celebrated it by Sam coming downstairs for the first time and joining in the festivities.

It was a snowy Tuesday morning in mid-January when Chet Parks came back to the Oasis after a walk over to the mercantile for supplies and dropped an envelope in front of his wife. Mollie was standing behind the bar, and she looked up at Chet. He shrugged. "Elton called me over as I was passing the Post Office. Said this had been waiting for you a couple of days."

The envelope was addressed to her in good ink and a fine copperplate hand. The address in the corner told her it was from Jedidiah Coffin in New Bedford, Massachusetts, but the postmark said New Orleans. Mollie slit the envelope and drew out two pieces of paper. The first, white and crisp, had only a few words saying that the enclosed letter had been given into his care by a ship's boy in Rio de Janeiro to mail for an American friend. The second letter, folded, rubbed, and stained, was written in pencil on a piece of rough paper. Mollie read it in silence and handed it to Chet. When he raised his eyes from the paper he told her simply, "Go the back way. I'll take care of things here." Wrapping a heavy shawl around her head and shoulders and tucking the envelope inside it, Mollie went out the back door of the Oasis and down the alley to the Long Branch.

She found Sam and Kitty drinking coffee at a table in a barroom as deserted as her own. Sam rose as she approached and she let him hold a chair for her. Without a word she handed the letter to Kitty and sat, her hands clutched together in front of her, while Kitty read:

_October 20, 1887 Dear Mollie, I am sending this to you instead of to Doc or Kitty because I think they may be watched. I don't want anyone in Dodge to suspect that I am still alive. I imagine there have been some changes, and I don't know if Kitty is even in Dodge, or what name she is using. I count on you to get this letter to her without raising suspicion. I was taken south by wagon to Galveston and put on a ship heading for Brazil. Every time we have made port I've been kept chained below deck. I don't know what will happen when we reach Rio, but I don't think it will be good. The ship's boy, Luiz, is going to try to get an American ship to take this letter back to the States and mail it. This ship, the Lupinho, takes women from Galveston to sell to brothels in Rio. From what Tonneman said to me, I think they will try to capture Kitty for that. All of you need to watch and protect her. Doc, I want to apologize for all the times I've fought you when I've been shot. On that long road south my constant dream was to wake in the safety of your office with you patching me up. Kitty, it comforts me to believe that you've married one of the men who love you and that you and the baby are being cared for. Know that I understand that was the right thing for you to do. Remember that Ruth married Boaz. I think of you always and if there is any way on earth to do it, I will come home. That may not be possible, but I will never stop trying. Frank, Festus, Newly, Sam - you are the best friends a man could have, and I trust you to keep Kitty safe. Don't spread the word that I am alive. It could make it more dangerous for her. I am well and strong again. The work on the ship is no harder than a trail drive, although the food is not as good. I do not know when or if I will be able to write again. Kiss our baby for me, sweetheart. God bless and keep you all. With love, Matt_

Eyes wide and face drained of color, Kitty passed the letter silently to Sam. He read it. "So he was shanghaied, just like Festus thought." Kitty nodded. "I don't understand the part about Ruth and Boaz. They friends of yours, Kitty?"

Kitty found herself relaxing just a little. "That's a special message for Frank, Sam. They were always quoting the Bible to each other. It tells us that he thinks I married Frank, and that it was the right thing to do. That first night he came back, Frank said those very same words to me - that Boaz married Ruth - and I had to ask Doc what it meant. Ruth's husband died in a far country, and she took his mother home to her own people. When they got there her husband's kinsman married Ruth, to take care of her, because that was their way, and their children became kings over the whole land." Kitty looked across and met Sam's eyes, "He's sayin' he understands what I did, Sam. He's countin' on me to have found a husband and a father for his child." Suddenly there were tears running down her face, "He's alive, Sam. Oh God, Sam, he's really alive."

OoOoO

Doc came in soon after, and the letter left him scrubbing his hand across his moustache and using the handkerchief he was pretending to clean his glasses with to wipe his eyes. Mollie told them she'd go home by way of Hank's stable and let Festus know he and the others were wanted, quiet-like. Before she left, she shared a hug and a kiss with Kitty, her own eyes wet, and then laid a hand on Sam's cheek, meeting his gaze with a depth of understanding that warmed him.

The other men dropped quietly in the various back doors of the Long Branch. Frank read the letter out loud slowly so that Festus could hear it, but his voice broke several times in the reading. No one commented on his difficulty. Kitty asked what Matt might have meant by "no harder than a trail drive" and Frank told her it was long hours and heavy work but that likely he was saying it was just men working together, not forced labor like a chain gang. "I'm more concerned about that line about the food not bein' as good." Frank said, and Festus frowned agreement, "Trail drive's been some of the worst food I've ever eaten, and sometimes not much of it."

Kitty's eyes clouded over again with tears at that piece of frankness, and Sam wrapped his arms around her shoulders and shifted his head towards the door indicating the men should leave.

OoOoO

Doc, Frank, Festus and Newly found their way back to the Marshal's office. They'd shared Kitty's joy and agreed to keep the news Matt was alive to themselves for the time being, but they knew there was more to say on the subject than they were comfortable saying in front of her. Frank sat down at his desk and started writing out telegrams. "If that ship was on its way back to Galveston the first of November, then it's likely there now. I need to get the Texas Rangers involved. The local police in Galveston are no help. I want that white slave trade stopped, and I want someone questioning everyone on that ship about what happened to Matt."

"You right sure be needin' ta do that, Frank," Festus told him, "I wisht I was down there now my own self ta get things a-goin'."

"Pretty sure we can leave it in McNeill's hands, Festus." Frank said, "You told him the whole story, I just need to fill him in on what's in Matt's letter. And make sure Barney doesn't spill the beans. I'm tryin' to think of how to say this in a way that will let Les know what's happening but not let on to anyone else that Matt's alive." He went on to state what they were all thinking, "Or that he was alive three months or so ago."

"That's really it, isn't it, Frank?" Newly said, "We don't know any more about Matt being alive now than we did when Festus found his things. We're always too far behind on his trail to see what might be happening right now."

Doc nodded his agreement. "I didn't like that part where he said he expected it to be bad when they got him to Rio. If they've been keeping him chained up while the boat's in port, it's clear they're not going to let him go. That ship might not be coming back to the States, might be anywhere by now, or they could have put him on another ship. Or…" Doc stopped, unable to go on.

"Or they might have just killed him." Frank finished for him. "I know, Doc, I know. But we have to make a try to see if the ship does go back to Galveston. If Tonneman really expected to capture Kitty when he was here on December first, and I think he did, then he may have been arranging the times to let him get back to Galveston to meet the ship. He may not have known that his men in Texas had been taken out. Or he may have known and made other plans. There's too damned much we don't know."

"Well, we know Matt expected Kitty to get married, to have a new name, and maybe to leave Dodge." Doc said.

Frank turned his back on the other men and stared out the window at Front Street. After a silence he said, still looking away, "He counted on me to marry her, Doc. That's pretty clear. And I didn't."

"If you had, Frank, would you be ready to give her up if Matt came back?" Doc asked him quietly. He hated to say the words, but he knew it was better to get it out in the open.

Frank shook his head. "No I wouldn't, Doc," was the first thing he said, and then, smashing his fist against the bars on the window, he turned to face them and said very softly, "Yes, I would."

"But you'd never have felt the same about Matt again, would you, son?" Doc asked him.

"Maybe not. I just don't know. I know I'm gladder than I can say that he lived through all that, and that I can try to believe he's still alive. And I'm for sure going to find out what happened to that ship." Frank grabbed up the paper from his desk and headed over to the telegraph office.


	18. Sydney

**Time for another comment. Originally my plan was for twenty-one chapters - that has increased to twenty-five. I'd like to continue to thank LadyBrit and BroncoMap for their excellent work as beta readers, and also add LadyofDodge whose grasp of grammar, commas, and ability to pick out a zeugma are without peer. All errors are, of course, mine. Thanks for reading.**

Chapter Eighteen: Sydney

Nine months on a ship didn't even phase the reflexes of a lifetime spent with horses. Matt had learned early on in the Union cavalry that horses will do almost anything to avoid running into a human. He held out his arms across the narrow street and made a lunge at the rope trailing from the animal's halter as it moved to one side to avoid the man. Then, hand over hand, he pulled himself closer to the horse, talking quietly, until he had his fingers on the halter itself. Matt was surprised to find Luiz right at his side. The boy had his shirt off and was handing it to Matt. "His eyes, _chefe_." Luiz said, almost whispering. Matt wrapped the shirt around the horse's eyes, and watched as the animal stilled - twitching and stamping but no longer trying to get away.

"Lift me up, _chefe_," Luiz said. "It is better he feel the weight."

Matt didn't let his astonishment show, just grabbed the boy by the seat of his pants and swung him up on the horse's back. Luiz was right. The horse calmed noticeably as the boy gripped with his knees and leaned over the animal's neck stroking and talking softly in Portuguese.

"Where did you learn about horses, Luiz?" Matt asked, rubbing the nose of the now steady horse.

"In Portugal, _padrinho. _My grandfather was a _cavaleiro_. Horses, I know horses since I was little, little." Luiz said, his voice still soft and singsong. "I can talk to horses."

Matt shook his head and took a closer look at the animal. He was small compared to the horses Matt knew, maybe fifteen hands, barely more than a pony, but beautifully formed with sturdy legs and a curved neck. The form looked familiar, and he quickly realized the horse looked just like the metal statue on the back of Doc's desk. His coat was not just dark brown but a true black, and the only marking Matt could see was a small white streak on his face.

"Thank you," a voice said loudly beside him, in English, "I thought we were going to have to shoot that beast, and he cost me an arm and a leg."

"Keep your voice down, mister." Matt replied. "Nothing wrong with this fella. He just got excited."

"No." the man said, and Matt turned to look at him. The man was tall, only two or three inches shorter than he was himself, and clearly didn't like looking up at anyone. He was dressed neatly in what might be a uniform, dark blue pants and long blue coat with a double row of buttons and braid on the sleeves.

"No?" Matt repeated.

"No," the man said again. "He tried to attack one of the other horses. Got vicious. Bit and reared, then ran when we pulled him off."

Matt smiled broadly and noticed that Luiz did as well. "Betcha anything the horse he attacked was a mare."

The man's brow clouded, "How did you know that?"

"Pretty clear you don't know horses, mister. You've got an uncut stud here, and he was sure ready for some action when he came runnin' down that street. If you'd let him have his way with her, he would have calmed down pretty quick." Matt told him.

"You seem to know your way around horses, man. You willing to lead him back to the ship for us? I'll pay you."

"You don't need to pay me, mister. Just pick up that bag. I can't carry it and take care of this horse at the same time." Matt said.

The gentleman in blue looked taken aback at the request, but reached down to heft the seabag and led the way back down the street towards the docks. Matt followed, leading the black with Luiz still aboard. They found a large, nea,t three-masted ship docked at the end of a wharf. Two mares, one grey, one brown and black, were being held by several very nervous seamen. The grey carried her tail high, and shifted it from side to side. Even blindfolded, the black began snorting and raising his nose to sniff the air as they approached. Matt stopped some thirty feet away. "What do you want me to do with him?" he asked.

"I want you to lead him down to the other horses and then help us board them," the uniformed man replied as if stating the obvious.

"Can't do it, friend." Matt said. "We get any closer and he's going to go crazy on you again."

"Why?" the man asked, "You have him calmed down. He was fine here on the dock with those other horses all day yesterday and all night while we finished getting everything set onboard."

Matt grinned and pointed under the black's belly. The officer condescended to look where Matt was pointing and drew back in genuine horror. Matt laughed aloud. "Better let him have her if you've got any plan of loading them today – or keeping them together on board."

"We can't do that!" the man exclaimed.

"Well, he certainly can. What's your objection?" Matt asked.

"What if the other horse… what if she… "

Matt sighed, but admitted it felt good to be, again, the person who knew what was happening rather than the one who had everything to learn. "Look, we can either take the black somewhere else and discuss this, or we can let him mount her, and then have a talk, but we can't stay here. He smells her, and he's already excited. Where's your horseman?"

"Gone." The officer stated baldly.

"And you're going to try to ship three head of breeding stock without anyone to take care of them?" Matt inquired sharply. "You may as well shoot them all right now, and it might save them from breaking up your ship."

"You… know what to do?"

Matt found himself smiling yet again. He hadn't had this much enjoyment out of a situation in longer than he could remember. "Not much for me to do, mister. This fella will take care of the hard work."

The man looked sternly at him, refusing to recognize the word play, and finally nodded his consent.

"Down, Luiz." Matt said, and the boy slipped over the side of the horse onto the ground. "Go lead the grey one out and hold her head tight. Get one of the other men to help you if you need it." The boy ran down to the wharf and did so, letting one of the sailors hold the other side of the mare's halter. Matt removed the blindfold and walked the black down to the mare, let him sniff and nip a bit and then pulled him forward. The black, clearly experienced, mounted her and less than two minutes later was down and done. Matt handed the lead of the now placid stud to Luiz and turned back to the officer standing rigid with astonishment next to the gangplank. "He should be fine for a while now, but I'd advise you not to ship him without an experienced groom or horseman on board."

"What's your name, man?" the officer asked.

Matt walked over to him and extended a hand, which seemed to surprise the uniformed man. "My name's Matt Dillon, an American from Kansas. Just got off the _Rainha Negra_ out of Rio. That's my boy Luiz."

The other man relaxed and took the offered hand. An American, well that explained the offhand manners and lack of proper respect. "Captain Thomas MacIntyre of the _Annie Laurie._ We're a British ship out of Sydney heading for San Francisco."

Matt's head came up in interest, and the Captain asked him, "You looking for a berth?"

"I am." Matt replied, "I have my papers from the _Rainha Negra_ and she's in port until Monday if you want to talk to the first mate."

"Ever handled horses on board a ship, Dillon?"

"No, sir, I haven't. Never worked on a ship until nine months ago, but I've handled horses all my life."

"You want to come on as my horsemaster? Pay's ten pounds a month and you sign on all the way to San Francisco." MacIntyre said.

Tempted as he was, Matt asked, "What happened to your last man?"

"Fired him for being drunk and leaving the horses."

"I'd need to see the arrangements on board before I sign. Be sure you have the right kind of feed and bedding and enough of it. I won't be responsible for the horses if you haven't made proper provision." Matt said.

"That's fair," the captain said.

"I get double rations," Matt continued, "And you can pay the boy five a month as a groom. He's been raised with horses and you can see he knows what to do."

MacIntyre shook his head. "Rations aren't a problem, but I will not have a boy on my ship, especially one that young. It causes trouble. You'll have to do without until you get to shore, Dillon."

It took Matt a minute to figure out what the man was saying, and then his eyes sparked. "Luiz is fourteen, and he's my son. I brought him all the way from Rio with me and I'm not about to leave him in Macau."

"I won't allow it on my ship." MacIntyre said firmly.

"Well, I won't allow it with my son. I've already proved that on the last two ships we sailed. You keep your men off my boy, and we'll be fine."

"If he's your son, why doesn't he speak English to you?" the captain asked suspiciously.

"His mother was Portugee. I got him out of Rio after she died. His English isn't bad. It will get better on an English ship. But we go together. If you don't want him, we'll find another ship."

"Not at ten pounds a month you won't."

Matt looked the man in the eye. "You married, Captain?"

"I am."

"Would you leave a son of yours on shore in a foreign port for any amount a man could pay you?" Dillon asked.

MacIntyre took a while to think on that. Matt simply stood silent and waited. "Alright, man. I'll take you both. Five pounds a month for the boy, ten for you, and double rations. And," he emphasized, "You train two of my men to work with the horses."

"Agreed," Matt told him, "But I still have to see the feed and the stalls, and I get to choose the men – or at least I get to dismiss them if they can't handle the job."

MacIntyre stared at him intently. He wasn't used to this air of authority from a seaman, and he wasn't used to bargaining with a man for a berth. Eventually he nodded his head but said, low and intent, "I catch you buggering that boy, Dillon, and I'll put both of you over the side, and the horses as well."

"It's not a problem, Captain. Never was." Matt stated solidly. "Let's go see what you have for the horses."

OoOoO

Matt saw little more of Macau, although he did manage a few more dockside meals. His respect for the captain increased when he saw the narrow, well-built stalls, the provision of slings to keep the animals steady in rough weather, and the amount of hay and feed provided. MacIntyre presented him with a small pamphlet about horse care on shipboard and told him he had increased all the requirements in it by twenty percent. Still, to think you could learn to handle horses from a book - that left Matt shaking his head.

One of the two men assigned to him, Roddy, seemed competent enough. He even had some experience with horses, at least driving, feeding, and grooming them. "Why didn't you tell the Captain what was wrong with that black?" Matt asked.

"He didn't want to hear, Mr. Dillon." Roddy replied. "Men don't talk back to our Captain."

Matt snorted at that. "A man who wants to run things needs to be aware of what he doesn't know just as much as what he does."

"Well he knows he's got more money tied up in these three horses than all the rest of the cargo combined," replied his other man, Stoner.

"All the more reason for him to leave them to someone who knows how to take care of them." Matt said.

He sent Luiz out with Roddy and part of their pay from the _Black Queen_, to find better clothes and boots, and then left Luiz in charge while he did the same for himself the next day. He learned that he'd have to have clothes made but got a promise they would be finished before the _Annie Laurie_ sailed.

Luiz loved his boots, and was both proud of his new navy blue pants, leather belt, and pale blue shirts and at the same time disparaging of the amount of money they spent. "Three shirts, _chefe_, it is too much! Why do I need three shirts? Never have I needed so many clothes."

"Because you are more important now, boy. You're a groom, and before you were just a ship's boy. You have a more important job, and people have to know it." Matt told him and watched the information sink into his brain.

"I am important, _chefe_?" Luiz asked.

"You, Luiz, are a little important. I am the horsemaster, I am very important." Matt said, "And you remember it."

"_Sim, chefe_." Luiz replied.

"English, Luiz."

"Yes, sir."

OoOoO

They left port within the week, and Matt found himself busier than he'd expected. Feeding, cleaning, grooming, accustoming the horses to the slings that would be used in rough weather, teaching them to walk back and forth on lead in the tiny space outside the stalls; there was little time for anything else, and both he and Luiz, along with Roddy and Stoner, hung their hammocks in the corridor by the stalls – never leaving the animals alone.

With good weather, they left the hatches open for light and air, and Matt listened to the work songs of the men on deck. The words and tunes were different from those he'd learned hauling lines on the Portugee ships, but the rhythm was the same.

The food was better on the big ship, but still monotonous. Matt received his double helpings from the cook without comment, and, for the first time since his voyaging began, he didn't spend his days in continual hunger. There was an actual mess for the crew. It held a long table with benches and food was served with spoons and forks – every man carried his own knife. The first time Matt and Luiz came to breakfast, Luiz started to dig into his porridge with his fingers as he always had before, but Matt kicked him under the table and carefully demonstrated eating his meal with a spoon. Luiz took a quick look around, tried to believe his action had gone un-noticed, and used the spoon in front of him to scoop the cereal out of his bowl. The men's manners weren't necessarily good, but they were different from the Portugee ships that Luiz had sailed on for four years. Matt noticed with satisfaction that one hint had been enough. The boy watched the others carefully and mimicked their behavior.

By the time they'd been travelling two weeks, things had settled down, and the new men knew the basics of their jobs. Matt felt free, finally, to walk the deck again at night, and when he did he realized from the stars that the ship was sailing south and not east. He asked his grooms about it the next morning and his stomach sank as he heard their answer. Yes, the ship was headed for San Francisco, but first they would stop in Sydney – where the horses were consigned – and then on to New Zealand and Hawaii before taking the last leg across the Pacific to California. Matt felt suddenly as helpless as he had when Luiz had first walked him up the ladder to the deck of the _Lupinho_. He went on deck and leaned against the rail, staring at nothing.

"_Padrinho_?" Luiz was standing next to him, his small hand on the big man's arm. "_Padrinho_, you are sick?"

Matt shook his head, not answering, but the boy continued, "Your heart is sick, _padrinho_?"

Matt smiled at that and ruffled the boy's hair. "Yes, Luiz, my heart is sick. I thought we would be home in two or three months, but it will be more than twice that."

"Your _dama_, she will wait for you, _padrinho_. You know that this is so." Luiz comforted him.

But that just made it worse. "No, Luiz. Kitty's for sure married to someone else by now. Likely my best friend. I can go back, I can see her, see my baby, but she won't be mine anymore."

"But, _padrinho_, she loves you. I know this from your eyes. She loves you and you love her. She will still be your woman."

"No, Luiz. She will not. All I can ask is that she'll still be my friend, that both of them will still be my friends. That they'll let me be with my child some. My baby won't even have my name." Matt sighed. He'd had these thoughts for months, but saying them aloud somehow made them more real.

"I do not believe this, _padrinho_. No woman would want another man, when she could have you. This is not so." Luiz said firmly.

"It is so, Luiz. I could have married her. I planned to marry her, but I didn't do it, not in time. I should have, but I didn't." Matt said, "And now I'll never have the chance."

"I do not understand, _padrinho_." Luiz's voice was sad.

"I know you don't, boy. Maybe we'll talk about it later. Not now. Let me be for a while, Luiz."

"Promise me, _padrinho_, and I will go." Luiz insisted.

"Promise you what, son?" Matt asked, hearing the distress in the boy's voice.

"Promise me you will not…" Luiz gestured to the ocean moving below them.

Matt took a deep breath and put an arm tight around Luiz's shoulders. "No, son. I won't jump. You can trust me. Things will never be the same, but I will go home, and you're goin' with me."

"Yes, sir."

Standing on the upper deck and watching the boy walk away from the tall man at the rail, the captain nodded to himself. Perhaps the boy really was his son. In any case, he didn't think he needed to worry. About the horses maybe, but not about the boy.

OoOoO

The _Annie Laurie_ was halfway to Australia, sailing south among the green islands of the Pacific when Dillon approached the Captain during one night watch as he stood at the wheel. The sky was clear and strewn with stars.

"May I speak with you, sir?" Matt asked.

"Yes. There something wrong with the horses, Dillon?" MacIntyre replied.

"No, sir. They've settled in well. They'd be healthier if we could stop for a day or two now and then and let them get some exercise on solid ground."

The captain considered that. "Perhaps. If we stop for supplies, if there's a sturdy enough dock, I could let you walk them out, one at a time. Have you had any more problems with the… stallion?"

"Not since the first week, it's too dark for the mares down in the hold." Matt answered.

"Dark? What does that matter?" the captain asked.

"Mares go in season based on the time of year – spring and summer when it's light longer. Down there in the dark they think it's winter."

MacIntyre shook his head. "I'll admit, Dillon, I never thought there could possibly be so much to know about horses."

"Why did you take them on, Captain, if you don't mind my asking." Matt asked.

"A friend of mine, a good friend, breeds horses on a station outside of Sydney. I owed him a favor, and he knew a man in China. I thought it would be an easy way to pay back a favor and make a profit at the same time." MacIntyre said.

"No way to tell for sure, but if things keep on as they are, and the weather doesn't change, you'll have your horses safe in Sydney. And whoever gets the grey mare will get a bonus." Matt told him.

"Oh?"

Matt smiled, "Never yet met a horseman who didn't appreciate a mare in foal, Captain MacIntyre," he said.

"You don't think he'll mind?"

"I can't imagine it." Matt said. The two men stood silent for a while. "I wanted to ask a favor myself, sir."

"Yes?"

"Wondered if you had any books on board that I could borrow. I want to teach the boy to read English, it will help when we get home." Matt said.

"I have a Bible or two, would that do?" MacIntyre replied.

"That's how I learned, Captain." Matt told him, "Wouldn't be a bad thing for Luiz."

"You learned to read from the Bible, Mr. Dillon?"

"You think Americans are all heathens, Captain? I assure you that's not true." Matt replied.

"Perhaps not all Americans, but, well, the men have seen your scars and commented on them. Horses, bullet scars, a home in the wild west – most of the men think you're an outlaw, Dillon. Not sure how you got where you are, but most of the men give you a wide berth." MacIntyre said.

Dillon's mouth twisted. "They've got the wrong side of the law, Captain. I spent fifteen years as a US Marshal and more time as a lawman before that."

"Care to tell me how you came to Macau?"

"I was shanghaied in Galveston by an outlaw I was trying to bring to justice." Matt said. "The last thing I remember before I woke up on the ship was him threatening my… family."

"And Luiz is not really part of that family, is he?" the Captain stated.

"He wasn't before. He is now." Matt told him simply.

"I'll see that you get a Bible, Dillon." MacIntyre said.

"Thank you, sir." Matt said, and walked away to continue pacing the lower deck.


	19. Washington

Chapter Nineteen: Washington

Corporal Michael Barker had spent more than two years as a guard at the American consulate in Macau when Matt Dillon arrived in that city. Barker knew he was due for rotation back to the States and, after two years in China, he felt ready to leave the service of his country and return to the open range of his youth. What he didn't expect, when he boarded an American ship in Canton, was to find the patronizing Oliver VanHaes on the same vessel. Barker kept himself to himself and stayed out of the former attaché's way. He heard, as rumors passed among the men, that the gentleman had been sent home by the consul in some disgust. A good family in New York and friends in high places didn't necessarily make a man a diplomat, but no one watching VanHaes would have guessed he even realized that his time in Macau hadn't been a complete success.

Barker and VanHaes arrived in San Francisco the last week in May. VanHaes headed straight for New York by train, but ended up in Washington by midsummer. The Secretary of State declining to have anything more to do with him, his family found him a post in the Attorney General's office where he shuffled papers and attended parties. Since the man had good manners, dressed well, and danced better than he worked, he found himself much in demand in the nation's capital.

Mike Barker, on the other hand, spent a week or two at the Presidio in San Francisco mustering out and then took a Union Pacific train across the country to Kansas City and another south towards Texas. When the tracks ran out, Barker bought a horse, a six gun, a rifle, some supplies and headed west towards Austin. He enjoyed the freedom of the unfenced land, the company of soft-spoken Texan cowboys, and the attentions of a variety of Texan women. And everywhere he stopped he told the story of meeting Matt Dillon in Macau. By the time he reached his family's home in Austin, the story of Marshal Matt Dillon alive and well in, of all places, China, was already there ahead of him. As the herds moved north over the summer months, the story went with them.

OoOoO

Festus, of course, heard it first. One of the trail bosses approached him down at the quarantine line and asked, "Ain't you the fella what was deputy to Marshal Dillon last summer?"

"Still am." Festus said, moving his vest aside to show his badge. His thirteen dollar a month paycheck wasn't always on time, but it hadn't stopped, and no one had asked him to give back his badge.

"So it's true then?" the man went on.

"What's true, mister?"

"About Dillon bein' alive. Bein' somewhere way the hell across the world," the cowboy replied, "Now look here, deputy, you settle it for us. My buddy told me he heard a man in Texas sayin' right out in a saloon that he saw Matt Dillon in China. China! But my sister, she says her sewing lady's husband's cousin was the one what saw him and it was down in South America somewhere. You bein' his deputy, mister, you tell me the truth of it."

Festus looked at him sharply, his eyes squeezed half shut. "Now don' you ask me that, mister, 'cause you don' really want ta know."

"Sure I do!" the man told him, "I got five dollars riding on it bein' China."

"Nah, ya don't." Festus said, pulling his mule a little closer to the man and letting his hand rest on his gun, "'cause if I told ya, I'd haf ta kill ya." With a wink and a nod, Festus turned Ruth and rode away.

The saloons in Dodge rocked with the news, and the drovers couldn't understand why no one seemed willing to confirm the gossip. Sam, Frank, and the others tried to keep it from Kitty, but the task was impossible. The first few times that someone cornered her and tried to get information, she ignored them, her heart in her throat, but eventually she took it as blandly as any other saloon owner, and her stock answer became, "You couldn't prove it by me, mister, but if you see him, send him my way. He still owes me for a bottle of whiskey." Mollie and Chet picked up the line, as did Sam, and soon it was the only answer you'd get in most of the saloons in Dodge. Bull Murray over at the Bull's Head saloon did open a lottery with betting on where Matt had been and when he'd return, but most, though not all, of the cowboys were smart enough to realize their chances of winning were pretty low since they'd only be in town a few days – still, Bull had quite a pot of money displayed behind his bar.

Frank came into the Long Branch late one evening, his face a bit worse for wear but grinning and smelling of whiskey. He slipped an arm around Kitty's waist and kissed her soundly. The saloon was busy and rowdy, and it seemed like old times. Sam watched and smiled, remembering all the years when Frank and Matt would come in from the trail, and Frank would do just that while Matt stood quiet, smiling but not even touching her hand. He'd wondered, at first, if Frank did it just to tease his friend, knowing Matt never showed affection for Kitty in public. He'd come to realize though, over the years that the Hays sheriff had visited frequently, that it was just his way. Matt never objected, and Kitty never put him off, as she was certainly capable of doing. Frank was busy telling Kitty about the fight he'd broken up at the Bull's Head when one of the locals found Bull dipping into the lottery jar and replacing large coins with smaller ones.

"You have any idea how those rumors got started, Frank?" Sam asked, handing the Marshal a beer.

Frank took a long draw on it and then shook his head. "They seem to be comin' up from Texas, Sam. That's as much as I can figure. Guess we'll have to wait for Matt to get back and tell us." The calm certainty with which he spoke gave Kitty a shiver of expectation, but left Sam with a cold lump in his gut.

OoOoO

In Washington that night there was a gala party being held at the British embassy. President Cleveland had been there earlier, and there were still a number of governors, cabinet members, and foreign diplomats in attendance. Oliver VanHaes was also there, and was looking for someone to impress. When a friend introduced him to Kansas Governor John Martin he began, jokingly, to tell him about the scarred sailor in Macau who'd tried to pass himself off as Marshal Matt Dillon. The governor was not amused. "You're telling me, young man, that a United States Marshal came to your consulate for help and you tossed him out in the street?"

"Of course not, Governor," VanHaes said backpedaling as fast as he could. "It was just some sailor off a foreign ship trying to cage a ride home."

"How do you know that, boy?" Martin asked him.

VanHaes didn't like Martin's term of address, even if he was a governor, and answered with some of his usual arrogance, "You would have known too if you'd seen the man, Governor. He was dressed practically in rags, had a heavy beard, and a scar across his face. The man was actually carrying a sack on his back with his gear in it. And he had some scruffy boy with him."

"A United States Marshal came to you and you sent him away because you didn't like the way he was _dressed_?" Martin shouted, causing conversation to stop and their fellow partygoers to stare. But John Martin wasn't concerned. He grabbed VanHaes' arm and forcefully started pulling him across the room yelling for Bill Endicott. The Secretary of War, a man twenty years older and bit shorter than the governor, stepped in to see what the trouble was.

"This blithering idiot," Martin told Endicott, "Says that he had Matt Dillon in the consulate in Macau back in April and that he threw him out in the street."

"Dillon?" the Secretary said, "He's seen Matt Dillon?"

"No, sir," VanHaes replied, trying not to stammer, "Not at all. Governor Martin misunderstood. It wasn't Dillon at all. Dillon's dead. It was some ragamuffin sailor trying to get a handout from the consulate." VanHaes' assurance was returning, "Might have succeeded too, if he'd gone around the back door instead of knocking at the front."

"Tell me what the man looked like." Endicott ordered.

"Well, he was tall, very tall, and he had brown hair and a brown beard, both touched with grey. He was wearing a sailor's clothes, neither very clean nor very neat, and his feet were bare under a pair of rope sandals like the seamen wear." VanHaes replied throwing his mind back to the big man who'd invaded his study some months before. "And he had a scar, a big badly-healed scar like from a knife or maybe a bullet – went straight across his face. He was a rough customer, I'm telling you. I had to get my guardsman to throw him out. Anyway, everyone knows Matt Dillon is dead. It was in all the papers."

Ignoring that last statement, Endicott asked, his voice now very low. "What side of his face was the scar on, man?"

VanHaes thought for a moment, closing his eyes to remember the tall, ragged man standing across the desk from him, "His right side, Mr. Secretary. It went straight across the right side of his face."

Endicott drew back a fist and smashed it into the younger man's jaw sending him to the floor in a circle of horrified guests. "That should have been my privilege, sir, not yours." Martin told him stiffly.

"Matt Dillon may be from Kansas, Governor, but he's one of _my_ Marshals. Grab one of his arms, Mr. Martin, and help me get him out of here."

OoOoO

The news made its way to Dodge City as a formally worded special delivery letter from the Governor of Kansas to Marshal Frank Reardon. The letter asked him to please share the information with Marshal Dillon's "close friends and family". Frank knew that Governor Martin knew that Matt had no family, but he also realized that the governor was certainly aware of Matt's relationship with the former Kitty Russell. Frank stopped himself at that point and began to wonder just how well informed the Governor of Kansas might after all be. Did he know about Kitty's marriage, about Matt's daughter? Frank shook his head. That was a little too much to imagine, but still, the way it was phrased…

Leaving those details to take care of themselves, Frank headed off to the Long Branch finding there, as he had hoped, Kitty and Doc having coffee while Sam organized things behind the bar. Frank scanned the empty room and then closed and latched the door behind him. "Anyone else here?" he asked.

"Estelle's over at Newly's, and Julie's upstairs with Maria. I think a couple of the girls might be in their rooms." Sam answered coming around the bar. "What's wrong, Frank?"

"Nothing's wrong, Sam, but I've got a letter here from the governor of Kansas, and it's got some news about Matt." Frank said.

Frank handed the letter to Kitty, and Sam and Doc both came to stand and read over her shoulders. When she lowered the letter, Frank sat down next to her and took her hands. "We're still more than three months behind him, Kitty. But it looks like he was healthy and free to move around. We just have to trust he'll manage to get home to us."

Doc took his seat and took the letter to read again before tucking his glasses away in the case in his pocket. "Macau makes some sense, ya know," he said.

"Why's that, Doc?" Sam asked, his hand still resting protectively on Kitty's shoulders. He knew that each bit of news they heard fueled Kitty's hope. Hope was good, but it could lead so easily to despair.

Doc scrubbed a hand across his moustache. "Well, from what those Texas Rangers learned about that ship down in Galveston, they were all Portuguese aboard. And Brazil, that was a Portuguese colony back when it started, and Macau, that's still a Portuguese city. Makes sense that they'd pass Matt from one Portugee ship to another and that the ship would be going to a familiar port."

"China? A Portuguese city in China?" Kitty said, not realizing she was repeating Matt's own words. "How did that happen, Doc?"

"I guess about the same way the French started a city in America and called it New Orleans," he told her.

Frank was thinking hard. "What kind of ships would go there? American ships? Why is that fellow VanHaes already back in Washington and we haven't heard another word from Matt?"

Kitty stilled at that, and Sam stoked her shoulders. "I'd guess," he said, "That our people over in China know the schedules for all the American ships, and that they get the fastest ships, too. If Matt had to get work on some boat, he might not have too much choice about where it was going, and it might not be goin' there fast. He might have to work his way one place and another trying to get back to the States."

"I think that's right, Sam," Doc agreed, "We can be pretty sure he'll find a way back, but it may take him a while." He took one of Kitty's hands from Frank and patted it comfortingly, "What I wonder about is them saying he had a boy with him. Think that's the boy he mentioned in his letter?"

But at that Kitty smiled a genuine smile. "I don't wonder a bit at it, Doc. You take Matt away from everything he knows, put him somewhere he doesn't even know the language, and you just bet he's going to end up protecting somebody smaller and weaker. You wait, I wouldn't be surprised to see him walk through that door with a half-grown boy, a couple of girls rescued from a Brazilian bawdy house, a dog, a parrot, and maybe somebody's old granny to boot."

OoOoO

Doc wasn't surprised when Kitty made her way up the stairs to his office the following morning. He poured her a cup of coffee and seated her in the big chair by the window, taking the smaller chair across from her. "You got something special to talk about, or are you just here to brighten my morning?" Doc asked.

Kitty smiled at him. It did him good to see the smile. There had been whole months last year when he hadn't seen a single one. "I think you know what I want to talk about, Doc."

"I can guess." Doc said, sipping his own coffee. "You and Sam talked about it?"

"Last night. Again. We never seem to come to any agreement, Doc. I want to leave things as they are until we know… really _know_… something. Sam's got a guilty conscience, but it comes and goes. I don't know what to do, Doc." Kitty answered.

"What exactly is he feeling guilty about, Kitty?" Doc said evenly. Kitty just looked at him.

Doc ran a hand over his lower face. "I wondered. Didn't seem my place to say anything." His next question wasn't what Kitty expected. "You still nursing Maria, Kitty?"

"Yes. Morning and night mostly. She's been drinking out of a cup for almost a month now." Kitty replied proudly. "It makes it a mite easier with me working and Julie or Estelle watching her upstairs. They don't have to interrupt me down in the bar, and I don't like either of them down there. Why do you ask?"

"You know you're less likely to get pregnant while you're nursing the baby full time, don't you?" Doc said.

Kitty shook her head. In all the discussions she'd had with Doc over the years about ways to keep from getting pregnant, this had never come up. "You never told me that, Doc."

He scrubbed at his moustache again. "Well, it never seemed relevant to our discussions, Kitty. I suppose I should have said something to you before." Doc pulled his ear and then faced her squarely, "What exactly is bothering you, Kitty? Spit it out."

After all the talks she'd had with Doc over the years, she hadn't thought it would be this hard. "Sometimes Sam and I disagree on whether or not we should continue… being intimate."

"Who's on which side?" Doc asked, thinking, _as if I didn't know_.

"Even though he's my husband, Sam thinks he's somehow cheating Matt by being with me. I think as long as we're married, well, we're married. But I leave that up to him." Kitty replied.

"You didn't work this out before you tied the knot?" Doc asked.

"We did. And things went pretty well until Festus came back with Matt's things. Sam never believed it was possible that Matt was alive until then. It changed how he felt."

"How he felt about you, honey?" Doc asked gently.

"No. But about living with me as man and wife. We've discussed it, but we never settle anything either way. Then, well, things go on as normal for a while, and then he'll get to feeling bad, and we'll talk the whole thing in a circle again. I could deal with it either way, Doc, but having to go over it again and again…" Kitty sighed. "Doc, back last year it really seemed easier just to agree that we'd make it a real marriage. Sam was willing to give Maria and me his name and leave it at that, but I thought… " she hesitated and then came out with it, "I've always cared for Sam, and sharing a bed just plain didn't seem that important. He was doing a lot for me, Doc, and I wanted to be able to give him at least something." Her voice went lower, "Doc, I knew if we didn't start being husband and wife at the beginning that someday the day would come when we needed to change what we were doing, and when that happened I'd have to admit to myself that Matt was really dead. If I didn't have to own up to that change, then I could keep believing."

Doc reached over to pat her hand. "How do you think Matt's going to feel about you marrying Sam?"

Kitty shrugged. "I can't see Matt taking offense. The way things got left I pretty much had to marry someone, and I still think Sam was the best choice. I know, from his letter, that he thought it would be Frank, but Doc, that wouldn't have worked, you know that. I think Frank knows that, too."

"I can see that now, Kitty." Doc said, "I admit that at the beginning I thought it should have been Frank, but you were smarter than that. You and Frank spark on each other like flint and steel – it wouldn't have been peaceful for either of you. Sam going to give you a divorce?"

"Yes. We both agree on that. It's what we do while we're waiting that bothers him from time to time."

"Let me ask you this, Kitty, what do you think Matt's expecting to happen when… if… he gets home? Pretty clear he thinks you married Frank. You think he'd expect Frank to step out of the way for him?" Doc asked.

"No, I don't. And I think that must be eating at him inside, no matter where he is or what he's doin'. If he's alive, I think he'll be back come hell or high water, but what happens then… Doc you know Matt wouldn't ask me, wouldn't even expect me, to get a divorce. I'd say he's just expecting to, well, be around, to see me, to have some part in his daughter's life. Doc, I couldn't live like that!"

Doc moved to sit on the arm of her chair and pulled her head against him. "This has been a hell of a year for you, Kitty," he said stroking her hair, "And you've pulled it off with such a straight face that we forget, sometimes, what you're going through." They sat in silence, and Kitty relaxed against him. It meant so much to be able, just for a little while, to stop pretending that everything was fine.

After a bit, Doc moved her away from him and took her hand, "You listen to me here, Kitty. You're looking for an answer that's going to make things easier on Sam. I don't think there is one. The two of you have been married about a year now. You've shared a pregnancy, and a child, and living comfortably – and intimately – with each other. There's no way for that to end without some pain on both sides. I think you just need to accept that – for yourself and for Sam. You can't make it better for him, Kitty, you have to trust his judgment to do what he thinks is right. If that changes from day to day, well, just keep going. I do know one thing you can try to do though."

"What's that, Doc?" Kitty asked.

"You can try not to let the pain turn to anger. In the long run anger will hurt you both a lot more than sadness. Why don't you talk to Sam about that? Work together on it."

Kitty was silent for a while after that, and Doc just sat stroking her hand. Eventually her chin came up in a gesture he knew well. "You're right, Doc," she said. "You usually are. I've been getting angry because I can't just fix things. I want there to be an answer that makes everything better, and that just isn't going to happen, is it?"

"No, Kitty, I don't think it is." Doc said.


	20. Luiz

**Ladies and Gentlemen, I can see from my stats that I have readers in China, Hungary, Ireland, Canada and the UK. I'm fascinated by this and would love to hear from you - either in reviews or as a PM. I suppose I wonder whether GS played and had a following in these countries, or if what we have is ex-pats working overseas. Thanks!**

Chapter Twenty: Luiz

Matt began teaching Luiz to read English at the beginning – which was Genesis. In some ways it was easier because the boy already knew how to read in Portuguese. In some ways that made it harder. Luiz was confused by English vowels, which could be pronounced a variety of ways, and complained bitterly that English was a foolish language and impossible to learn. Matt soldiered on, smacking him occasionally to get his attention, forcing him to sound out words, and not objecting when he realized Luiz was memorizing whole passages rather than actually reading the words. He'd done the same himself, in his early years, and knew that the reading would come if they just continued on. Matt being Matt, staying focused was not an issue.

The weather became steadily chillier as they sailed south, although not really cold to a man used to Kansas winters. Matt searched the slop chests onboard and found a jacket and a sweater not too overly big for Luiz, but nothing remotely large enough for himself. After watching him pacing the deck one evening in a chill, mizzling rain, Captain MacIntyre pointed the man out to the first mate as he came to relieve him. "I was wondering if we might still have that little chest onboard, Barlow? Belonged to the man Carmichael replaced?"

"The Swede, Captain?" the mate asked, "Yes I think it's still in Carmichael's cabin. We cleared the letters out of it so you could write to his family, but the clothes are still there. Far too big for… ah, I see. Shall I bring it to Dillon?"

"Yes, I think that's a good choice, Barlow. It's going to get colder and wetter the further south we go." MacIntyre replied. "You have the wheel, Mr. Barlow." The mate stepped forward to relieve his Captain. "Maintain heading two points off of south southwest. "

"Aye sir. I relieve you, sir, maintaining heading two points off of south southwest."

"Safe watch Mr. Barlow," the Captain said.

Barlow's gaze followed his captain as he walked down to the lower deck and into the main cabin. MacIntyre had a reputation as a hard man, and in many ways it was true, but he was fair as well, and more considerate than many of the crew gave him credit for.

After the morning meal, the first mate made his way down the ladder into the bow hold with a small trunk on his shoulder. The smell appalled him, but none of the horsemen seemed to notice it. "Any way you could air this place out?" he asked.

Dillon regretfully shook his head. "It was better before the rain started, sir. We could keep the big hatch open most of the day then, but I can't risk the feed getting wet."

"I don't know how you manage to sleep with that smell," Barlow commented, "Glad it's not me. Look here, Dillon, we had a mate who died on the way into Shanghai last year. Big fellow like you, a Swede – his English was good though. Captain said to give you his chest, likely you'll find some warm clothes you can wear."

Dillon nodded, "Please thank the captain for me, sir. And thank you as well."

Luis wanted to open the chest immediately, but Dillon set it in a corner and lifted Luiz onto the black's back before leading the horse out of his stall. There was far more space in the hold now than there had been when they started, and more than three-quarters of the feed was gone. He led the horse back and forth repetitively for half an hour before returning him to his stall and setting Roddy and Luiz to do the same thing with the brown mare.

Matt didn't open the chest until after dinner when the two grooms were in the seamen's mess singing and drinking their rations of grog. Usually Luiz would have been with them – the Captain wouldn't allow him rum, but he liked the music. Tonight, however, he hung around the stalls waiting for Matt to open the chest. The Swede, whoever he had been, must have been a good match for Dillon. The trousers, two pair, were a little short, but he could tuck them into his boots Texas-style. There were two hand-knit sweaters and an oilskin coat that fit him well. Moreover, there were underwear and several pair of socks, mended but clean, that Matt made free of immediately.

"Why?" Luiz asked.

"Used to it, I guess," Matt replied. "Anyway, it's warmer."

Luiz accepted that and went on rooting through the chest. He found a photograph of a young blonde woman holding a child, and also a straight razor, brushes, and a shaving mug. These fascinated Luiz. On the _Lupinho_, only the officers had even attempted to shave. He broke into Matt's sad reverie looking at the photograph to say, "My father, he used a razor like this. Every day. I would watch him. Sometimes I brought him the hot water."

Matt set the picture down slowly. It was only the third time that Luiz had ever mentioned his family. "What else do you remember, Luiz?"

"My mother, she was beautiful. Her hair was dark but her skin was very white. She did not like to come on the ship, to leave my grandfather, but she did what my father told her." Luiz said

"So before you went on the ship, you lived with your grandfather? In Portugal?" Matt asked.

"_Sim, padrinho_. We did not live in the city, but outside. Like a big farm, with a big house, and a church, and stables with many horses. My grandfather was a _cavaleiro_."

"What does that mean, Luiz, a _cavaleiro_? A horseman, a groom? "

Luiz laughed, "No, _padrinho_. Not like you and me. That would be a _cavalariço. _My grandfather had many men like that working for him. A _cavaleiro, _that is an important man. My grandfather owned much land, many horses. His grandfather and his grandfather they lived there in the same place. Long ago they rode the horses and fought with swords."

Matt took that in. He didn't think the boy was lying, he didn't seem to care enough about it to lie. "Why did your family leave, Luiz?"

"My father and my grandfather they fight all the time. My mother is unhappy. So my father says he will go to the new world, to Brazil, and make a fortune for himself. Me, I like that idea. My mother, she did not. But we all went together." Luiz shrugged, "And they all died."

OoOoO

It had been almost a year since the day that he'd left Dodge with Tonneman on the train when the _Annie Laurie_ arrived in the harbor at Sydney. Matt was impressed with the huge circular bay that the men called a "key". It was several weeks before he learned that the word was written quay and pronounced differently than an American would say it. Matt was eager to unload the horses, load their new cargo, and head out. When he found that the Captain planned to spend a month with his family in his home port, Dillon asked to be released from his contract. Amenable in many things, Captain MacIntyre was adamant in his refusal.

"You signed on for San Francisco, Dillon, and that's where we're headed. I've taken cargo consignments based on your contract." the captain told him.

"Sir, I've been gone a year. My family may not even know I'm alive. I have to find a ship leaving sooner." Matt said.

"You will not do that while part of my crew, Mr. Dillon." MacIntyre said. "You signed articles for yourself and the boy for this ship, and you will sail on this ship. If you want to make that more difficult for yourself, I can arrange it." Matt just stared at him. "Come, man, another month can't matter that much. Let me sweeten it for you. You and the boy go inland with these horses. I'll write a letter to my friend Mr. Collier and he'll put you up at his station while we're in port. Better for both you and the boy than hanging around this city spending your pay and getting in trouble."

Unable to think of an alternative, Matt nodded his agreement. "Is there a way I can send a letter to the States, Captain?"

"Yes, the post office here will take international mail, but it's damn slow. You write your letter and I'll give it to another ship that's heading out for San Francisco next week. The captain can mail it there and it will likely save you time."

"Is there anything at all I can say that would convince you to let me go on that ship instead of the letter?" Matt asked.

"No, Dillon, there is not. There's pen and ink in the officer's mess that you may use. Write your letter now and give it to me before you leave. I've already sent word to Collier and I expect him to be here tomorrow morning to pick up the horses. You and the boy be ready to leave then."

MacIntyre walked away. He didn't know how it was that he came to argue with the horseman. He wasn't a man who argued. He was used to giving orders and having them obeyed without comment. Somehow, with Dillon, that wasn't the way things worked out. He went to his cabin and started a letter of his own, a long one, telling his friend about the horses, the voyage, and the strange American who'd stepped in to save his horses.

Matt went into the officer's mess and found envelopes, paper, pen, and an inkwell stored tight in a desk that folded down from the wall. Barlow entered the cabin while he was sitting struggling with how to start. Dillon looked up. "The captain said that I could write a letter here, sir."

Not showing his surprise, Barlow nodded. "Anything I can help you with, Dillon?"

"Can you tell me when we'll arrive in San Francisco?" Matt asked.

Barlow thought a bit, "We're due to leave Sydney on the first of August. The current plan is to sail to Wellington, that's New Zealand, and from there sail on to Hawaii. We usually give the men a week in Hawaii. I'd say we'll arrive in San Francisco sometime the first two weeks of November. That suit you?"

"No, sir, but it doesn't look like I can do anything about it." Matt said.

"You in a hurry, man?"

"I have a child born last Christmas that I've never seen, and a woman waiting for me not knowing if I'm alive or dead. Yes, sir, I'd say I'm in a hurry." Matt agreed.

"Has anyone ever told you to 'make haste slowly', Dillon?" the first mate asked him.

The question stopped Matt cold. It had been a favorite phrase of his father's, and one that he thought he lived by. He allowed himself a slow nod. "_Annie Laurie_'s a tight ship," the mate said, "and faster than many. You might find yourself leaving later but arriving earlier by staying with us. Also, your position on the ship is secure, and your boy's as well. Not every ship would do that – I'm frankly surprised that the Captain allowed it. You'll arrive in San Francisco with money in your pocket, and if it's a week or two later than you like…" Barlow shrugged.

"Thank you, sir." Matt told him, his strained face relaxing into a rare smile, "I suppose I needed that reminder."

"I'll leave you to write your letter." Barlow said and stepped out through the cabin door.

The letter took Matt a while to write, and when he finished it he made a second, almost identical, copy. He addressed both letters, tucked one inside his shirt, and handed the second over to the Captain about noon. "You have any objection to my spending some time ashore this afternoon, sir?" he asked.

"Not if you leave the boy to watch the horses," MacIntyre responded civilly.

While that made it clear to Matt that he still wasn't trusted, it also made sense as Roddy and Stoner had left the ship earlier in the morning. "Yes, sir," he agreed without comment and went to find Luiz.

Luiz was disappointed to the point of anger to have to stay on the ship, but Matt was firm with him. Leaving the boy sulking in the hold, which was at least open to the cool, sunny air of Sydney harbor, Matt headed for the wharf and the city beyond. In the area near the docks he found the chandlery shops that were now familiar to him and purchased socks, underwear, two sweaters, a good coat, and a knitted hat for Luiz. He found little that would fit himself and had to settle for just more socks and a hat. Then, smiling to think of Luiz's reaction, he bought several cakes of soap and a towel.

Matt spent an hour wandering around the streets of the huge city. He heard English on every side, but the accent was just enough different to baffle his ears unless he listened closely. He found the main post office and mailed his letter to Dodge – paying a premium for the fastest possible service. Then, having a new thought, he purchased paper and stood at a desk there in the post office to write a letter to Washington. He mailed that as well, and then went looking for a hardware store.

He bought a good knife and whetstone to supplement the knife he'd purchased in Luanda and that he'd nearly ruined on the horses' hooves. He then purchased a second knife for Luiz, and a leather sheath to hold it. Other than food, he couldn't think of anything else the boy might want or need, but as he was coming out of a bakery with a paper-wrapped bundle of meat pies and little cakes, he noticed a bookshop across the way.

Back on board, Matt filled hay nets and mucked out the stalls while Luiz gorged himself on food and fruit. Afterwards, making the boy wash and dry his hands before they began, Matt opened another parcel and presented him with two books. "_The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_" Luiz read aloud, and then looking at the next "_Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_". Greedy eyes paged through the pictures in the second book, "A ship that travels underneath the water, _padrinho_? There is such a thing?"

"Maybe not like that ship, Luiz, but yes, our armies back in America used submarines in the last war. They could sneak up on a ship in harbor and sink it with no one knowing they were even there," Matt told him.

Luiz grinned at him. "These are good books, _chefe_. We will read these and put away the Bible."

"We will read them all three," Matt told him firmly.

"_Sim, padrinho_." Luiz replied.

"Use English, boy." Matt told him.

"Yes, sir."

OoOoO

Matt had Luiz up before dawn, grooming the horses and cleaning out the stalls for the last time. One by one he led the horses, blindfolded, up the makeshift ramp from the hold and down onto the wharf. He tied each one to a ring on the posts there, and left Luiz to watch while he went back for the next. When he was done, he sent Luiz down for the duffle that the two of them had packed the night before. By the time he returned, Matt was watching four draft horses pull a horse box as big as a circus wagon up to the dock.

Captain MacIntyre came striding down the gangway and stood next to Dillon while a well-dressed man in formal riding clothes dismounted from a dappled grey gelding. The men shook hands cordially and MacIntyre introduced them. "Robert, this tall gent is Matt Dillon, an American horseman who came to my aid in Macau. He's been taking care of your horses since then. Dillon, my friend Robert Collier."

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Collier," Matt said, offering his hand, "This is my boy, Luiz."

Collier took the hand with some surprise. His grooms didn't usually address him in that fashion. "Dillon," he acknowledged, seeing the quickly hidden grin on MacIntyre's face. "An American, eh?"

MacIntyre might not know horses, but Collier certainly did. He examined all three of the animals closely, looking in their mouths, lifting their feet and feeling their legs. He nodded in satisfaction when he was done. "You did a good job, Thomas. I wouldn't have expected them to finish the voyage in this good a shape. You'll have a draft from my bank in the morning."

"I need to let you know about the grey mare, Robert," the captain told him, forthright but nervous, "She, uh, came into season just as we were leaving Macau, and the black, uh, mounted her. Dillon says you'll have a foal next spring."

Collier's face broke into a hearty grin and he slapped his friend on the back. "That was smart of you, Thomas! If it's a colt you may just have doubled my investment!"

Relieved, but honest, MacIntyre said, "It was Mr. Dillon's idea, Rob. Said it was the only way to calm the black down."

Collier guffawed. "Bet you'd never seen anything like that in all your seafaring life, eh, Thomas?"

The Captain's smile was tight. "I'd like you to take Dillon and his boy out to your station, Rob. He's never been to Australia, he's from the American west. Likely he'll be more at home with you than waiting a month here in the city." He drew an envelope and three small scrolls from inside his jacket. "Here are the papers on the horses. Ride in and see me next week. Bring the boys. Mary and the children would love to have a visit."

The two men shook hands, and MacIntyre returned to the ship. Collier proved himself a horseman in Matt's eyes by not leaving it to the grooms to box the horses, but instead led the black up himself. Matt left his bag in back with the horses, hoisted Luiz up to the high seat, and followed him up to sit beside Collier's driver.

OoOoO

A station, apparently, meant what Matt would have called a ranch, and Collier had a big one. Matt and Luiz ended up not in the bunkhouse as he'd expected but in a room at the big house. Eating a bigger, and better, meal than he'd had since Dodge, Matt relaxed and answered questions from Collier's family about the wild west. As they sat on the verandah drinking coffee, one of the Collier boys brought him a dime novel, and asked if he knew Wild Bill Hickok. "I did when I was younger, son, but Bill's been dead a dozen years now."

Collier listened with interest and some disbelief. When the children had gone to bed, he called the man on it. "You didn't need to agree with Joey, Dillon. It's hard enough to keep him focused on his work when he's always reading those penny dreadfuls."

Matt shrugged. "They make up a lot of stories about Bill Hickok, and about the Earp brothers, too. They weren't any different from other men. Good lawmen, mostly, but Bill was always too much of a gambler. He was a big man in Kansas when I came up from Texas and started working the law."

"MacIntyre said you were a marshal or sheriff or some such, but I wasn't sure it was true." Collier said.

"I'm still a US Marshall as far as I know, sir. They may have marked me off as dead by now, but I have no way to tell." Matt said. "When did the Captain tell you that, Mr. Collier?"

Collier smiled. Dillon didn't miss much. "In the letter he handed me with the horses' papers. He asked me to entertain you as my guest this month. Not something he could do, Dillon, seeing as you report to him. I've known Tom MacIntyre for a long time, man. It's something I might have expected him to do for an officer, but not for a seaman."

"I'm not a seaman, Mr. Collier. I'm his horsemaster." Matt said.

"So he says. And you're really a lawman?"

"Yes, sir, I am. But you don't have to believe it if you don't want to. I'll keep it to myself around your boys." Dillon told him. "I won't lie, Mr. Collier, but I don't need to take the subject any further if you'd rather I didn't."

"Do as you like, man, the boys are old enough to sift fiction from fact if they need to. How old is your boy?" Collier asked.

"Fourteen."

"Adopted?"

Matt smiled into the dark. "Rescued. He rescued me and I rescued him." He turned to his left and called quietly but sharply, "Luiz!"

"_Sim, padrinho_?"

"It's not polite to listen to other people's conversations." Matt said mildly. "Go to bed, boy."

"_Sim, padrinho_."

Matt rose and stretched. "I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Collier, whatever prompted it. It's been a year since I last slept in a bed. I count on you to let Luiz and me help you while we're here."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Dillon."

Luiz was finally asleep. He hadn't been happy with the idea of a bed, and even less with sharing one. Matt had stripped off his outer clothes, blown out the lamp, and laid down, leaving Luiz to work out his problem on his own. He thought for a while that Luiz would sleep on the floor, but the boy had, at last, eased himself, fully dressed, on top of the covers at the far edge of the bed. Matt's lips had curled a little at that small sign of trust.

It felt good to stretch out, even if the bed wasn't quite big enough for him. He tried to keep his mind away from his last night with Kitty, just a year ago. That wasn't something to let himself dwell on while sharing a bed with an already skittish youngster. It was a short step to thinking about Frank and Kitty. He wondered if they'd stayed in Dodge. He couldn't imagine Kitty up in the Montana wilderness, and, like him, the law was the only trade Frank really knew. He imagined Frank as marshal, marrying Kitty, and taking his own place in her life. At least, if anyone could keep her safe, it would be Frank.

Eventually, Matt dreamed. The dream was warm and filled with familiar ease. Kitty sat on her small settee, and she was laughing at something. Frank was sitting at her feet with one leg stretched out in front of him and his arm wrapped around a raised knee. He was talking to Kitty, teasing her, but Matt couldn't seem to hear what they were saying. It was late, and he knew it was time for Frank to leave, like he always did when the three of them were together, and head down the hall to sleep – alone or with one of Kitty's girls. But in the dream he was the one who was standing up and moving towards the door. Frank and Kitty stood smiling beside him, he leaned down to kiss Kitty's lips, felt Frank's hand warm and firm on his shoulder, and then he was out in the well-known hallway. Alone. All alone. Somewhere in the distance a baby cried.

Matt woke in the quiet darkness. The bed was solid and still beneath him, and he found he missed the roll of the sea. He opened his eyes, staring long at nothing, before closing them and trying again to sleep. It was a long time before he was successful.

OoOoO

The month passed quickly. The station worked much like the ranches Matt had known. He made sure that he and Luiz were up early every morning, and that they were busy through the day. Luiz spent all the time he was allowed with the horses, as if attempting to make up for the years at sea. Matt tried a little of everything and found most of it familiar. Some things seemed unreal - like sitting a horse and firing a rifle into a mob of kangaroos as if they were a herd of antelope. He knew Collier was watching him, and it didn't bother him. He was what he was.

There were no handguns on the station. Men used rifles, and there were plenty of those. He began teaching Luiz to handle one, setting up stones and cans as targets. Collier and his boys joined in, and Matt found his aim as true as ever. He wondered if he could still draw a gun. He wondered if he'd ever need to again.

Collier had been quick to begin using the Chinese black to cover his own mares. Matt discussed breeding with him and was told that most of the horses imported to Australia as breeding stock came from either England or India, and were draft horses or racehorses. His own aim was for a better, stronger, sturdier breed of riding horse that could deal well with the dry reaches of the outback where Australians ran enormous herds of sheep. Matt asked him if he'd ever seen an Appaloosa or a Morgan, and their conversation on that subject continued on and off for days.

It was the last week of July and a chill, rainy evening. Matt and Luiz were sitting on the floor next to the fire. The younger children had been sent to bed. Mrs. Collier was working on a never-ending pile of mending. Her husband looked up from the rifle he was cleaning and said without preamble, "You want to stay, Dillon? You and the boy?"

Matt had wondered if this were coming. Collier was subtle, but it hadn't been hard to see he was being put through his paces. "I can't, sir. I have family back in the States. I need to go home."

"Seems from what you haven't said that maybe you're not exactly expecting your family to be waiting for you." Collier said.

"Not waiting, no, but there all the same."

"And the boy?"

Matt found Luiz watching him. "You want to stay here, Luiz? With the horses? It's a finer spread than I'll ever have."

Luiz looked away, hiding tears in his eyes. "Do you want to leave me, _padrinho_?"

"No, son. I want you to be free to choose." Matt told him levelly.

The boy recited, his eyes shut, "'Whither thou goest, I will go. And thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.'" He opened his eyes and looked straight into Matt's, "This is right, yes?"

Matt pulled the boy to him and laid a cheek against his hair. "Yes, son. That's just right." He turned to Mrs. Collier. "I'd like to thank you for having us, ma'am. I'll remember these meals fondly when we're back on the _Annie Laurie_." To Collier he said, "We should probably head back tomorrow, sir."

"I'm sending six horses to Hawaii with Captain MacIntyre. We'll ride some in and lead the others."

"I thought it might be something like that, Mr. Collier." Matt said, "Breeding stock?"

"Three young stallions, but they're barely two year olds, shouldn't give you any trouble like that black stud." Collier chuckled, "Wish I could have seen Tom's face when you had him cover that mare."

"You hush, Rob," his wife said, "Mr. Dillon, it's been a pleasure having you and Luiz. If things don't work out for you at home, well, you just stay on the _Annie Laurie_ and come right on back. We'll have a place for you."

OoOoO

It was his last night sleeping in a bed. Luiz, whose fear had eased with familiarity, curled in a warm ball under the covers beside him. Matt thought of the words Martinez had said to him that first day on the _Lupinho_. "I will go home." Matt had said, and Martinez had replied, "That is possible. Some men have. Most do not." He had thought at the time that Martinez had meant that most men in his position died. Now he wondered if he had meant something else entirely.

"I will come home, Kitty," Matt whispered into the darkness, "I don't know what's waiting for me, but I will come home."


	21. Letters

Chapter Twenty-One: Letters

Estelle made her way down the alley behind the saloons and crept up the stairs to Doc's office. It was a Tuesday, it was lunch time, and she should have been at school. She sat very small and quiet on the top step, waiting for Doc to return. She held a thin book in her hands. On the cover there was a picture of a cowboy standing with a gun in each hand facing a group of sword-carrying warriors in Chinese armor. A beautiful young woman in a long Chinese dress cowered behind the cowboy. Estelle sniffled a little and wiped at her nose with the bleeding knuckles of her right hand.

Doc came around the corner maneuvering a toothpick in his mouth. He was halfway up the stairs before he noticed her crouched at the top. "Well, what a pleasure to see you, Estelle. You been waiting for me long?"

Estelle shook her head and one of her braids came undone. She looked down at the book in her hands rather than at Doc. He unlocked the door to his office and ushered her in. "You sit up there on the table, honey, and be my patient. I haven't got anyone else to practice on this afternoon." Estelle hoisted herself up onto the examining table, but caught her breath as the move rubbed the scraped surface of her hand. Doc poured some water in a basin, picked up soap and a clean cloth, and came to stand next to her. He took her hand and began very gently to wash the broken skin. "Didn't school just start yesterday, Estelle? You been fighting already?"

She nodded, hanging her head. "I know girls shouldn't fight, Doc, but he just made me so mad I didn't know what else to do."

Doc finished with her hand and put a finger under her chin to tip her head one way and another, realizing that she likely had a black eye coming. "Who did this, Estelle?"

"Mickey Richards," she responded willingly, "but you should see _his_ face, Doc. I got him down in the gravel in the schoolyard, and sat on him, and pushed his face in it 'til he took it all back." Her face fell then, "But he cheated! When I let him up he started in again, and he ran away, and said he was gonna tell _everybody_." She looked up into Doc's face, blinking back tears, "And I don't want him to," she finished.

Doc wiped her face with the wet cloth, catching the tears she didn't want him to see. "And what is it that you don't want him saying to everybody?" he asked as he neatly did up her loose braid and tied it with the drooping ribbon.

Estelle held out the dime novel she'd been carrying. The title over the lurid picture read _Matt Dillon and the Empress of China_. Doc leafed through it. "Where'd you get this, honey?"

"From Mickey. He said Marshal Dillon ran off to China so he wouldn't have to marry Miss Kitty, and he said," Estelle lowered her face and couldn't go on.

"And he said…" Doc prompted helpfully.

"He said Maria is Marshal Dillon's baby, not Sam's."

"That the first time you've heard that story, Estelle?" Doc asked.

"No, sir," she replied. "I heard Mr. Burke say it in the barroom once, but Sam just laughed at him. And I've heard some of the boys at school say it, but they didn't know I was listening, so I could pretend I didn't hear."

"You ever think maybe the best thing to do might be to laugh at Mickey?"

That brought Estelle's head up and her eyes widened, "Instead of hittin' him?"

"Yep."

Estelle tilted her head to the side. "Would that work?"

"It worked for Sam." Doc said.

"I could try that, I suppose." Estelle said, and then added bloodthirstily, "And if it didn't work, I could pound his head into the wall."

"No," Doc told her shaking his head, "Once you start laughing at what someone says, you have to just keep on laughing, or ignore them, otherwise they'll keep on trying to hurt you with what they say."

Estelle considered that and finally shook her head. "No. I'd rather beat his head right in and push him down the privy hole at school. He could yell for a long time before anyone found him."

Doc held a hand over his mouth, trying to stroke away a smile while fiddling with his moustache. "I suppose that's true, honey, but try thinking about it this way. What is it you want Mickey to do?"

"Shut his lying mouth about Miss Kitty and Maria." Estelle said forthrightly.

"What if it's not a lie?" Doc asked her quietly, but that brought no comment, only tears.

Doc sat down in the big chair by the window, remembering Matt sitting there not too much more than a year ago to tell him that Kitty was pregnant and he was going to marry her. "You come sit with me here, Estelle," Doc said opening his arms to her.

"I'm not too big?" she asked.

"You're not too big," Doc replied, and she came to sit on his lap and lean her head against his shoulder.

"Now Miss Kitty's talked to you about men and women and how babies are made, hasn't she?" Doc asked.

"Yes." Estelle agreed. "I know all about how that works, and I know that if a baby's born without the woman being married that it's a sin and a shame for her."

"Well, I don't know about the sin, honey, but people certainly make a point to call shame on her and on the child, too." Doc said, "That's why when Marshal Dillon was shot, we all thought it was important for Miss Kitty to get married before the baby was born. Festus, and Newly, and Frank, and I, we all wanted to marry her, but Sam was the lucky one who did."

"But Maria, she's really Marshal Dillon's daughter?" Estelle asked.

"Yes, she is." Doc responded simply.

Estelle took a while to think about this. "Why didn't Marshal Dillon marry Miss Kitty then? Didn't he love her? Or…" Estelle hesitated, but her faith in Doc let her continue, "Was it like with Helen and Cora and the cowboys they take upstairs?"

"Now sweetheart, I don't ever want you even to think that. Matt loved Kitty very, very much. He sat right here in this chair and told me that the day before he left to take Tonneman on the train. And they were planning to get married as soon as he got back. But he never came back," Doc said. "Now honey, you have to understand that Matt thought he was keeping Kitty safer by _not_ marrying her. There were outlaws out there, bad men like the one who killed your ma and pa, who might have tried to hurt Kitty if they knew that the marshal loved her."

"Does she still love him?" Estelle asked.

"Yes, Estelle, she does. She loves him as much as ever, and she's been hoping and praying all year that he'll come back to her. Even when the rest of us thought he was dead, Kitty still thought he might be alive."

The girl ducked her head deeper into the folds of Doc's black coat, but he heard her question anyway. "Does that mean she doesn't love Sam?"

"What do you think, Estelle?" Doc asked.

"I think she does." Estelle admitted softly. "She acts like she does. And she sleeps with him in the same bed. And they both love Maria. And me." The last two words came out in a whisper.

"Well, honey, that's the best way to think of it. We don't just love one person in our lives. You loved both your mother and your father, didn't you?" Estelle nodded against his shoulder. "Kitty loves you, and Maria, and Sam, and she loves me too. I know she does."

"She loves Frank, Marshal Reardon, too. He kisses her all the time, when he comes in and when he leaves, sometimes he kisses her more than Sam does, and sometimes she cries on him and he holds her, but then I go away because it makes me sad."

"Yep, she surely loves Frank as well." Doc sighed, it was a hard thing to explain, "But the love that a man and wife have, the love that has them wanting to make a baby together, that's special. That's the kind of love Matt and Kitty had, still have if I know anything about it. They shared that love for years, honey, since before you were even born," he exaggerated slightly.

Estelle tried to work this out. "So Miss Kitty married Sam because she was going to have a baby, and she loved Sam, too, and thought if Marshal Dillon was dead, well then, Sam was second best."

Doc smiled, "That's not the most polite way to put it, Estelle, but I think you're right. I wouldn't go around saying that to anyone else though."

Estelle shook her head decisively at that. "But Doc, what about the new baby? That will be Sam's baby, won't it? And she's married to Sam. I know, I was there. What's Miss Kitty going to do when Marshal Dillon comes home?"

Doc sat very still. This was news to him, and not really news he wanted to hear. He stood Estelle up and then rose out of the chair himself. "I don't know, Estelle, I just don't know, but I bet she and Sam and Matt work something out. Now, how about I write you a note to give the teacher tomorrow morning, and tell her I needed your help here this afternoon. I've got a lot of pills to make up, and you can help me cut them and box them, how about that?"

Estelle nodded. "I'd like that, Doc. And we can talk some more?"

"You betcha, young lady. Any time at all you need to talk to me, I'll most surely listen," Doc told her wishing he too had someone older and wiser to advise him on this very subject.

OoOoO

The first of Matt's letters from Sydney was delivered not in Dodge but in Washington DC. Perhaps it was the fact that it was addressed to the Secretary of War that expedited its arrival, perhaps it was just chance, but on Wednesday the fifth of September William Endicott walked into his office and found a letter from Australia waiting for him on his desk. He cut open the envelope and read the contents. The letter was very matter of fact and there wasn't much he didn't already know. Marshal Dillon reported his abduction on July 7th of the previous year, named the ships he'd been held on, described his attempt to report in at the US consulate in Macau, and finished with the information that he was making his way back by available transport. He expected to be in San Francisco the first part of November and would appreciate the Secretary notifying the Marshal's Office there to expect him. Endicott pursed his lips and strode purposefully back and forth across the room several times, then called loudly for his assistant and began dictating telegrams.

OoOoO

Mollie Parks received the letter from Australia on Friday the seventh of September. When Elton at the post office tried to find out who it was from, she hushed him quickly and whispered that she didn't want Chet to find out. Elton grinned at that, but it kept his mouth shut. What Chet didn't know about Mollie wouldn't hurt him. Without even opening the letter, Mollie headed over to see Doc, passed it off to him for Kitty, and let him know in no uncertain terms that she expected to be let in on the contents.

Doc strolled over to the Long Branch. The room was busy with the lunch time crowd, but a nod from Clem headed him up for Kitty's room. He found her sharing a messy lunch with Sam, Julie, baby Maria, and, to his surprise, Newly. He dropped the letter next to Kitty's plate. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up wide-eyed at Doc. "Mollie just brought it over to me." he said.

Kitty was aware of Sam standing at her other shoulder as she picked up a knife from the table and slit the envelope. Her heart jumped at the sight of several pages covered on both sides with Matt's familiar scrawl, so different from the last, tightly-printed missive. Holding the paper so the men behind her could read it as well, she began.

* * *

_Sydney, Australia_

_July 5__th__, 1888_

_Dear Kitty,_

_First let me tell you that I am well and safe. There was a difficult time when we arrived in Rio and an officer on the Lupinho found out about the letter that Luiz smuggled out for me. The boy and I were transferred to another ship, the Rainha Negra, which was heading for Macau by way of Sao Paulo de Loanda in Africa and Goa in India. We arrived in Macau last April and I was finally allowed to leave the ship._

_I tried to report in to the American consulate in Macau, but the man there – Oliver VanHayes – called me a liar to my face and refused to help. There was a guard by the name of Michael Barker, from Austin, who did believe me, but he was unable to do anything for us. I was lucky enough to find a British ship in Macau that was moving horses and needed someone who knew how to handle them. Luiz and I signed on to San Francisco on the Annie Laurie under Captain Thomas MacIntyre. We had been at sea for some weeks before I found out that we were headed south to Australia and then to New Zealand and Hawaii before we make sail for America. _

_I am now in Sydney. I asked to be released from my contract, but Captain MacIntyre will not agree. That's his right under the law. I am going to mail one copy of this letter from the Post Office here, and send another by way of a ship heading out this week for California. The captain has arranged for Luiz and me to spend the next month before the ship sails at the home of the man who owns the horses we brought from China. I have no idea what to expect, but it has to be better than spending a month here in a city. _

_I expect to arrive in San Francisco sometime in the first half of November. From there I can take a train to Dodge. I wish that there was a faster way to return to you, but it seems that this is what I will have to put up with. I find it hard to believe that it has been a year since I was captured. I still worry about your safety but hope that one way or another Tonneman's gang has been put down. If not, then please believe that you are still in danger and let our friends protect you._

_Kitty, I want you to know that I love you and that whatever has happened while I have been gone will not change that. I understand and accept that our lives will surely be different when I come back, but my love for you and our baby will not. You are in my thoughts every day and every night._

_Doc, I thought of you when I first saw the Chinese horses. They look just like the bronze statue on the top of your desk. You will want to know that the shot that took me down left a scar across my face from my cheekbone to below my right ear. No one sewed it up, but an Indian woman who was caring for me on the wagon ride down to Galveston bandaged it and put something on it that seemed to help. Pretty sure the bone was damaged some, but it has healed. I don't look very pretty, but then I never did. I am otherwise in good health and strength. _

_Frank, I hope that you are in Dodge and taking care of things. I remember at all times that 'a brother is born for adversity' and know that we will see this through together._

_Barring accidents, I am confident of my return in November. The Annie Laurie is a tight ship with a good Captain. Let Festus know I get double rations as part of my pay. The food is not good, but at least there is enough of it. Newly, will you look out for a good Colt for me? You know what I like. I haven't worn a gun in a year now, but suppose I will have to when I return. _

_Sam, I think sometimes about that drink I turned down during our conversation my last night in Dodge. They serve us a measure of rum twice a week on this ship, but it's foul stuff. You give Mollie a hug for me and thank her for handling these letters._

_God bless. With love, Matt_

* * *

Kitty put the letter down and started sniffling. Sam pulled a clean white handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, then stood rubbing her neck very gently.

"Bad news?" Newly asked.

"No, Newly," Kitty said, "Good news. Here, read it, there's a part for you." She handed him the letter.

Newly read it quickly and then checked his watch. "The afternoon session of court's going to start in just a few minutes, Kitty. Let me head down and see if I can take Frank's place. There's only two cases this afternoon, and he doesn't have to testify in either." Kitty smiled her thanks at him as he donned his hat and left the room.

Julie picked up baby Maria and started washing her face. "I'll take her for her nap, Miss Kitty," the girl said, "You mind if I lay down with her?"

"You do that, Julie," Kitty said, wiping her eyes and handing the handkerchief back to her husband, "You're working too hard, days here and nights at Delmonico's."

"Tain't nothin' compared to farmin', Miss Kitty," the girl replied, "But Newly and I, we're goin' for a buggy ride tonight after the restaurant closes up, so I thought…"

"We'll likely have people in here talkin' for a while, Julie," Kitty told her, "Why don't you take Maria all the way down to Sam's old room for her nap? It will be quieter." Julie handed the baby to her parents for kisses and then whisked her down the hall.

"I'm going to miss that child, Kitty," Sam said looking after them.

"I know you will, Sam, and you know you'll always be welcome as a part of her family." Kitty told him.

Sam tipped up her chin and gave her first a warm smile and then a soft kiss. "Don't be sad for me, Kitty. I've had a wonderful year, and, well, there's some relief in the waiting being over."

Doc had wandered over to look out the window in an attempt to give them some privacy, but neither Kitty nor Sam seemed disturbed at all by his presence. He turned as Kitty snorted a laugh and said, "A wonderful year? First with me fat as a pig and not able to work a bit, then you being shot, then months of a cryin' baby wakin' you every night?"

"Best year since I came west," Sam affirmed with a big smile stretching over his face.

"You're a fool, Sam Noonan!" Kitty said shaking her head. "But I'm mighty glad you are," she told him tenderly, and they left it at that.

Frank came in a few minutes later, and they heard Festus jingling down the hall from the back stairs. Kitty handed Frank the letter and asked him to read it aloud. They were all silent when he finished reading. Eventually Frank spoke up, "That's from Proverbs, isn't it, Doc?"

Doc nodded. "Chapter seventeen. _A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity_."

"We're good then." Frank said in satisfaction. "Sam what was that bit about him turning down a drink?"

"He was reminding me of a conversation we had that last night before he left. We talked about the baby coming, and he told me he trusted me to take care of Kitty while he was gone." Sam replied.

Frank laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "No one could have done better, _compadre_," he said, then turned to the others in the room. "I asked Judge Brooker to join us up here after court. I'm thinking we need some legal advice."

OoOoO

If Judge Brooker was embarrassed as Newly led him into the Long Branch and up the stairs to Kitty's room, he certainly didn't show it. He'd been up there twice before – once to offer her his condolences the week after Matt's death, and once in December to see the new baby. Sam greeted him at the door, and he went over to shake hands first with Kitty and then with Doc. "Quite a welcoming committee, Galen," he said, "I understood from Marshal Reardon that you needed some help with a private matter?"

Kitty smiled at him, "And this doesn't look too private to you, does it, Judge?"

Doc swiped a hand across his moustache and said, "It is though, Cyrus. It's just that all of us here are involved in it, and we're all looking for the best way to solve a problem. Why don't you sit down, and we'll talk?"

Sam offered him Matt's big chair as the others settled around the room. Kitty sat between Newly and Doc on the settee with Frank on the floor at her feet. Festus moved chairs out from the big table for himself and Sam.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?" Sam asked.

"A glass of whiskey would be very welcome, Sam." Brooker replied looking around him at the five men and one woman who were regarding him expectantly.

Sam took glasses from the sideboard and poured whiskey, handing one to each of them and keeping one for himself. He raised his glass, "To Matt, may we see him soon." They all drank.

"I take it," Brooker said, "That this means you've heard from him?"

"You knew he was alive, Cyrus?" Doc asked.

"I heard the news from Governor Martin, yes, but nothing more conclusive," the judge told him.

"We got a letter today, Judge, from Australia. Matt says he hopes to be back in early November." Kitty said.

Brooker's eyes lighted at that. "The best news I've heard this year, Mrs. Noonan! And what can I do to be of assistance here?"

Sam was forthright. "When I married Kitty last year, when we believed that Matt was dead, I told her that I would give her a divorce if we were wrong and he came back. I need to know the easiest and quietest way to do that."

The room was silent while Judge Brooker pondered that, sipping his whiskey. "You are in agreement with this, Mrs. Noonan?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, I am."

"There are some different ways that you can do this," the judge said. "I won't comment on it being an odd arrangement. I believe I know the facts behind the case, but in order to discuss this I must be very frank with you. I hope you will not be disturbed by my blunt speaking, Mrs. Noonan? I take it that you are comfortable discussing this matter in front of all of these gentlemen?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Judge." Kitty told him.

"Well then. You and Sam are both residents of the state of Kansas. As such either of you can bring suit for divorce, but you must have grounds. Sam, you have grounds to divorce your wife under Kansas law in that she was pregnant with another man's child when you married her. I assume that's true, Galen?"

"It is." Doc told him, "but we've worked mighty hard, all of us, to play down that fact, if not to keep it a secret. I'd hate to see it stated in open court."

"As would I." the judge replied, "On the other hand, grounds for divorce in this state are somewhat limited. Desertion is clearly out of the question, and I'm assuming that you do not wish to charge Sam with repeated violence against your person, Mrs. Noonan?"

"I won't do that, Judge, and please, it's Kitty."

Brooker smiled at her and said, "Thank you, Kitty." before turning somber again. "The remaining grounds for divorce are non-consummation, insanity, impotence, sodomy, and adultery. Not a pleasant selection, but I think the easiest to settle on is the last."

Sam looked horrified, but Kitty nodded, her face calm. "I'll agree to that, your honor. Sam can divorce me, and I'll provide whatever evidence is needed of my guilt."

"You will not!" Sam exploded. "That was never the way of it, Kitty. I told you I'd give you a divorce, and I will, but you'll bring the action against me, and I'll agree to anything you say."

Looking back and forth between the two of them, and then at the other men in the room, Brooker told them, "You do realize that in Kansas divorces are granted by suit in an open courtroom, and that they must be announced in the local paper beforehand?"

"Seems ta me, yur honor," Festus said, "That the state a' Kansas makes it durned difficult for a couple a folks ta split up proper."

"Exactly so, Deputy, although I must tell you that many states have even more stringent laws, and some states forbid divorce for any reason."

Doc took a look at the glum faces around him and twisted his mouth in an attempt not to smile, "You got some other notion that might help us here, Cyrus?" he asked.

"As it happens, Galen," he replied, "I do."

Kitty looked across at him expectantly, and he addressed her as if the two of them were alone in the room. "Kitty, this is not going to be easy, and you need to accept that, but I think I know a way to make it a little less difficult. The state of Nevada issues divorces _in camera_, that is, privately in a judge's chambers, and although a decree of divorce must be published in the local newspaper, the grounds for the divorce are not stated. The variety of complaints is similar to those in Kansas, but since the decree is granted privately by the judge, documentary evidence is usually sufficient, and if all parties are agreed on the settlements, then the actual legal action is largely a formality."

"But we don't live in Nevada, Judge Brooker." Kitty said with some confusion.

"But you could, Kitty. It would take you six weeks to establish residency. Only one party needs to be a resident of the state. I have a good friend in a law office in Reno who I think would be happy to take your case, and I can ask Judge McCarren or Judge Julien to hear the case. If we have all the paperwork ready and signed, the judge can hear your case and grant your divorce as soon as you become a resident, and the divorce will be final upon publication."

Sam and Kitty looked at each other. "I could leave in a few days, Sam."

He nodded in agreement, but said gently, "I still need to give you cause, Kitty."

Judge Brooker cleared his throat, "It seems to me, Kitty, that if you wrote out your complaint saying that you believed your husband had been unfaithful to you with, perhaps, one or more of the ladies who work here, and that when you confronted him he did not deny the allegation, that would be sufficient."

"And if it's not," Frank said with a grin, "Bet those girls would every one of 'em line up to sign an affidavit if they thought it would help. Only problem would be to keep them from embroiderin' their descriptions a little too much."

Sam's color rose sharply, but Brooker just nodded his head and said, "Exactly so, Marshal, exactly so."

OoOoO

It had been a fairly busy evening at the Long Branch, but by midnight most of the crowd was gone. One table of poker players still sat near the door, and Doc was nursing a whiskey at the bar with Kitty. He'd been quiet all evening, not responding to Kitty's small talk, and she was a little worried. Finally, he clicked his glass firmly down on the bar, and raised a hand to motion Sam over to them.

"Get you something else, Doc?" Sam asked.

"No, but I need to talk to the two of you," he glanced around, "This private enough?"

"I think so, Doc," Kitty replied in a low voice. "I know you've been thinking about something all evening, why don't you just tell us?"

Doc looked at Sam rather than at Kitty and announced with quiet determination, "I'm going to Reno with Kitty, Sam, and I don't want any argument from you. I've telegraphed east for a replacement for my practice. If the man works out, well then, it's time I was retiring anyway. I know you want to have Kitty leave as soon as possible, but I need a week to get things set up. That cuts it close but still gives her time to get everything done in Reno."

Sam just met the man's gaze and nodded. Kitty bristled a bit and said, "What's this all about, Doc? You know I'm capable of taking care of myself, and it's only four days to Reno on the train."

Still not looking at Kitty, Doc said, "What arrangements you and Sam choose to make about a divorce is up to the two of you, and maybe Matt, but I'm not going to let a woman with your history of miscarriage travel or stay alone in a strange town. Now that's final, and it's the way it's going to be. We can take the morning train a week from tomorrow." Without saying goodnight, Doc turned sharply and walked out the door.

"Damn." Kitty said.

"No." Sam replied, "Thank God."

**o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * ****o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o ***

**I realize that the waiting period for residency in the state of Nevada was three months at this time in history, and that it didn't change to six weeks until several decades later. That, however, did not fit the timeline of the story, so I hastened the advent of the new regulations to make Kitty's wait fit the available time.**


	22. The Pacific

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Pacific

They found the interior of the _Annie Laurie_ changed and smelling of new lumber. Two separate holds, each with a row of five stalls and a large hatch open to the deck, were now set up to transport horses. A covered hold in between them held the fodder and bedding. The ship was still largely deserted with only a deck officer and two seamen standing watch. MacIntyre met with Collier in his cabin while Matt spread bedding in the new stalls and then led the horses one by one to their quarters.

The last horse was aboard, and Luiz was beginning to fill hay nets and fetch water when the Captain came down into the hold. "Do you like the new accommodations, Mr. Dillon?" he asked.

"Generally, yes," Matt replied. "But it's a trade-off. We can keep the hatches open unless there's a high sea, but on the other hand, we don't get to make use of the extra space as the supplies are used up."

MacIntyre, who had been expecting compliments, was disgruntled by the comment, but refused to show it. "We have four more horses set to come on board tomorrow morning as the crew returns," he said drily. "And you will have four grooms, besides Luiz, working under you this voyage. The book I read said that there should be no more than two horses per groom. Will that be satisfactory?"

"If they're good men, it should be fine." Matt answered. "Roddy and Stoner coming back?"

"Roddy is. Stoner is not." MacIntyre answered, and then, with narrowed eyes he said, "You will join the officers' mess on this voyage, Mr. Dillon. With five men working for you directly, your status needs to be made clear."

"I'd rather not, Captain."

"I didn't ask you your preferences, Mr. Dillon. I gave you an order," the captain replied.

"Yes, sir." Matt replied, and added, his face sober but his eyes twinkling with humor, "Do I still get double rations, sir?"

"As needed, Mr. Dillon, as needed." MacIntyre said making his exit.

OoOoO

That night Matt and Luiz hung their hammocks under the open hatch. The empty ship was quiet with only the noise of the waves against the side and the quiet shifting of the horses in their stalls to disturb them.

"_Padrinho_?"

"Luiz?"

"I am glad to be back in my hammock." Luiz said. He was quiet for a while longer, and Matt thought the boy had drifted off to sleep when he added, "You understand why I did not like the bed, _padrinho_?"

_You don't have to explain anything to me_. That's what Matt thought about saying. It's what he wanted to say, but he didn't. "I think I do, Luiz, but you go ahead and tell me about it."

Luiz's voice was breathy and soft. Although they were no more than a foot from each other, Matt had to listen hard to hear him. "When we first came on the ship, she was the _Ana-Cristina_ then not the _Lupinho_, we had a cabin with two ship-beds."

"Berths." Matt interjected quietly.

"Berths," Luiz agreed. "And my mother and my little sister took one, and I slept in the other with my father. He would hold me very close at night so I did not fall when the ship was rocking."

Matt nodded in the darkness. "As early as I can remember I slept in a bed between my two big brothers. I always felt safe with them next to me."

"That was how it was, _padrinho_. I felt very safe. But then," Luiz's voice trickled out, but in a little while it came back, a bit louder and a bit harder. "But then, they died from the sickness, and many of the crew, and the Captain, they died too."

"Were you sick, Luiz?" Matt asked.

"I was a little sick, but I got better. They did not." Luiz replied. "When we came to Rio, the boat was sold. They changed the name to the _Lupinho_. Martinez, he was the only officer left from the _Ana-Cristina. _The only one who stayed. And I stayed too. I had nowhere to go. The new officers came on board, and one came to the cabin where I had lived with my family. He told me I could stay there with him."

More silence, but Matt knew the boy was not asleep. He listened to the sobbing sound of Luiz's breath. "What happened then, Luiz?" he prompted.

"The new mate, he was good to me. He talked to me. Made sure I had food. Gave me work to do each day." Luiz's voice was low again, "And he had me sleep next to him in his berth. I liked this, _padrinho_. I felt safe like with my father. But then one night, he hurt me. I tried to tell him to stop. I tried to run away. But he held his hand over my mouth so I could not scream, and he hurt me very bad."

"He fucked you? There in your father's bed?"

Luiz's voice rose with anger, "I was so little,_ padrinho,_ I did not even know what he was doing. Horses do not do that, and I did not know that people did. I only knew he hurt me, and I bled, and I thought maybe I would die." The boy spoke quietly when he spoke again. "The next day I asked Martinez for a hammock, and I hung it in the hold with the other men. I slept there with all the men, but still I was frightened. I was always frightened. I thought I had done something wrong, something bad, and that was why the man had punished me."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Luiz." Matt told him steadily, "It was the officer who did wrong."

"Perhaps I know that now. Perhaps not. But then, then I was just afraid. When we came to Galveston, the mate, the officer, he left the ship. And that was the first time we took women on board. He brought them onto the ship, and the _Lupinho_ took them to Rio."

"Were there other men who hurt you like that, Luiz? Before Pedro?" Matt asked him.

"Yes, sometimes. Not too often. Some men tried to give me things, but I would not take them. Other men, they just hit me and then took me. I was on the ship for many years. I learned to be careful, _padrinho_. I learned to hide – sometimes alone, sometimes in the middle of many people. But still… "

Matt blew out a breath, trying to blow away his anger. "So when we went to stay on the station, and they put us in a room with one bed, you thought… that I would hurt you?"

"My heart did not think so, _padrinho_, but I was afraid." Luiz said, and there was shame in his tone.

Wanting to reach over and touch the boy, but knowing that was exactly the thing he could not do, Matt said, very matter-of-factly, "I have done many things in my life, Luiz, but I have never raped anyone – man, woman, or child – and I never will. I cannot always keep you safe, Luiz, but for now, I can. And when you are older, I will teach you to defend yourself so that you never need to let that happen again."

They were silent together for a time, and Matt thought the boy was asleep when he spoke again. "That man. The officer. His name was Malachai. He was one of the men who carried you on the ship in Galveston, _padrinho_. And I thought then, perhaps, if you are his enemy then I would be your friend."

"Thank you, Luiz. You've been a good friend." Matt told him. "Go to sleep, boy."

"Yes, sir."

The ship rocked gently in the harbor, and Matt angled himself so he could look out the open hatch at the clean sky and the stars. _I almost told him he didn't need to explain_, Matt thought, _and he really did need to tell me._ Then later, before he slept, the memory slipped into his mind of all the times he'd told Kitty that they never needed explanations. All the times she'd wanted to tell him something, and he thought he already understood, and hadn't wanted to listen. _Well, maybe, sweetheart,_ he thought_, when I come home, we won't be able to do all the things we used to do, but I'll always be there to listen to you. Luiz has taught me that._

OoOoO

It was still winter and the seas were rough. They had to use the slings to keep the horses on their feet, and the three new men were barely competent to fill hay nets much less bundle the horses into their canvas wrappings. Dillon, Luiz, and Roddy were busy night and day.

By the time they reached Wellington harbor with the city rising on a hill above it, Matt knew he was going to lose some of the horses if he didn't get them out and walking on dry land for a bit. Hanging in the slings weakened their legs and tied up their guts with colic. His argument with MacIntyre was quiet but intense. Matt knew better than to raise his voice. The more people who knew about an argument the harder it was to change someone's mind. Eventually he gained permission to take the horses one at a time to walk the length of the pier. MacIntyre clearly envisioned each horse walking the pier one time. Matt kept the men leading the horses up and down in turn throughout the day and far into the night.

September was springtime in the South Seas, and as they sailed north and east towards Hawaii the weather improved slightly and sunny days began to outnumber stormy ones. Three of the new men settled into their jobs, and Matt dismissed one back to the regular crew when he found him negligent in his work. Instead he brought in an old sailor who told him he'd driven a horse cab in London for twenty years, and in John Myers he found the replacement horsemaster that MacIntyre was looking for. Myers had a feeling for horses, a sharp eye for any misbehavior from the men, and he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Matt began to do less and direct more.

In addition to reading with him, he also began to talk more to Luiz about the people he would meet in America. Stories about his early years with Frank after the war and then their years as lawmen perked the ears of all the grooms, and the adventures soon traveled 'round the ship. Outlaws, rustlers, bank robbers, and Indians became daily fare. His first meeting with Festus and their search for Black Jack Haggen was a favorite, as was the advent of Newly onto a hijacked stagecoach with the lovely Kitty Russell. As the stories grew in popularity, Matt still shared meals with the officers, but began attending the evening gatherings at the seamen's mess with Luiz.

He never told more than one tale in an evening, and they were usually short, but his simple delivery somehow made them all the more believable. As he spoke, Matt relived those years and thought about what he'd done and what he'd given up. He'd always felt that if he didn't keep the law, no one would do it as well. And while he knew that at one point that had been true, by now he'd been gone for more than a year, and someone else had surely taken his place. He didn't need to go back to it. He didn't need to take up that burden again. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got back, but he was more and more convinced it wouldn't be the law. That was when Kitty would enter his thoughts, and the fact that it was too late to marry her. All the years they'd waited, all the years when the badge came first, began to haunt his dreams.

OoOoO

Somewhere not long out of Wellington, Luiz' voice began to change. The men teased him constantly – trying to get him to talk or sing with his cracked tones. Luiz began spending more time in the hold with the horses, even missing meals. Matt found him there during dinner mess one evening when he had excused himself early from the officers' meal. "Why aren't you up eating dinner, boy?" he asked.

"I am not hungry." Luiz answered.

Knowing it was more than that, Matt sat down on a bale of hay and leaned back against the wall. "Come talk to me, Luiz." The boy reluctantly came to sit with him. "This about your voice, son?"

Luiz nodded in agreement. "They laugh at me, _padrinho_, and I cannot help it."

"I know you can't, Luiz. Seems men always laugh at a boy when his voice breaks. They remember people laughing at them, and they do the same. But you can't let it keep you from your meals or your work." Matt said.

Luiz remained sullen, so he tried a different tack, "You know what this means, don't you, Luiz?"

"It means I cannot sing anymore," he replied.

That made Matt smile. "Well, not with your boy's voice you can't. Those high notes are gone forever, son. But pretty soon your voice will settle down and you'll be able to sing again in your man's voice. It won't take more than a few months. And likely you'll start growin' too."

Luiz looked up at him with interest. "I will grow bigger?"

"Indeed you will. If you're fifteen now, then I'm surprised this hasn't happened earlier. I was only eleven when my voice broke and I began to grow."

"This happened to you too, _padrinho_?" Luiz asked in astonishment.

"It happens to every man, Luiz, and every one of us gets teased about it. You just have to bull your way through and not let them bother you. And you need to eat so your body can grow. Lord knows, there's not much that's fit to eat on a ship, but you need to do the best you can." Matt said.

Luiz considered that. "I would like to be bigger. I did not think I would ever grow."

"You will," Matt assured him, "You just need to be sure that you grow inside as well as outside so that when your body is bigger you can use it to take care of those who are smaller and weaker than you are."

"Like you do, _padrinho_?"

"I try." Matt agreed, "My father taught me that."

"And you teach me." Luiz nodded in satisfaction, "I too will try."

They sat in silence for a bit. Silence was one of the other things that Luiz was learning from Matt. After a while, Luiz said, "If you really want to know how old I am, _padrinho_, you can look at the papers in my _caixa_."

"Oh?" Matt said, his interest piqued. "What kind of papers, Luiz?"

"I am not sure of all of it. It is in Portuguese, and the words are very hard, but it talks about my family. I have not looked at them in a long time." Luiz said.

"Go get it." Matt told him, and the boy went to rummage in the bottom of their seabag for the small, leather bound box. He brought it to Matt and released the small latch to open it. Inside were three sets of folded papers, hand-written in Portuguese on stiff, heavy paper, a small silver framed mirror, a piece of dark lace that might have been a woman's veil, and a tiny, tightly-folded garment of gauzy white cloth. Leaving the other things in the box Matt looked at the papers, but could make out only a few words. Two seemed to be letters, and one some sort of official document with a seal. On this he recognized a list of names and dates.

"Your father was Miguel Arnaldo Ramos da Silviera?" Matt asked.

"_Sim, padrinho_. And my mother's name, here," he pointed, "Was Maria Elena Alamieda. That was my grandfather's name, Alamieda."

"So your full name is Luiz Jose Maria Alamieda da Silviera?"

"Yes, that is me, Luiz," the boy agreed.

"Then you will turn fifteen about the time we get to San Francisco, Luiz. It says here you were born on _novembro terceiro 1873. _November third 1873." Matt said.

"That is good, _chefe_. If I am almost fifteen then surely I will grow bigger soon." Luiz said, his voice suddenly an octave lower than before. Matt didn't comment on the break, and Luiz took the papers, carefully returned them to the box, and latched it.

"You will grow bigger soon." Matt agreed, not realizing that the boy would outgrow all his clothes even before they reached Hawaii. _And someday before too long_, Matt thought, _I'll have to find someone who can read those papers and translate them for us._

OoOoO

Collier's horses were unloaded at the port of Hilo on Hawaii. The _Annie Laurie_ sailed into the harbor, and Matt finally found the kind of village he'd imagined since Africa. There were a few board homes and warehouses, but most buildings looked like they were made of woven grass mats. The rancher taking custody of the animals was an American from California who was pleased with the stock, but tried to argue about the agreed on price. Matt waited out the argument between the captain and the rancher in silence, putting his attention to the difficulties of getting the horses off the boat. The dock was reasonably sturdy, but narrow, and, when money matters had been settled, Matt himself led each horse, one at a time, off the ship and onto the shore.

The island was different from anything Matt had ever seen – clear blue water, sandy beaches, and a lush growth of trees. The native women wore mostly long loose dresses that covered them from neck to ankle, but they seemed to have no problem discarding these single garments at the shore to swim and frolic naked on the beach. He soon saw why Hawaii was a favorite port for the seamen. The young girls were stunningly beautiful - slender and dark with long black hair. The women were large but graceful with big hips and heavy breasts. All of them, young and old, seemed happy to greet the sailors and the greetings were more intimate than anything Matt had ever seen done in public. Matt found himself blushing. He'd done his fair share with women in the past, but he'd never actually watched the process being performed by two, or more, others.

"Not to your taste, Mr. Dillon?" Captain MacIntyre said, suddenly appearing at the rail beside him.

"They're very lovely, Captain," Matt told him, "But they seem a bit free with their favors."

"You're not going to go sample the wares?"

"No, thank you, Captain." Matt said.

"You have the watch, then, Mr. Dillon. No girls on the ship and any man who can't walk up the plank under his own power goes on report," MacIntyre said. Matt saw him a few minutes later walking off into the trees with not one but two native girls.

Matt stood his watch through the afternoon and into the night. He was alone on the ship – even Luiz, Myers, and the elderly cook had left. Luiz came back sometime after dark bringing him fresh fruit along with meat and strange vegetables that seemed to have been steamed and then wrapped in leaves. Matt ate hungrily. "You find a girl, Luiz?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"They seem willing." Matt commented.

"They are willing for every man, _padrinho_. I have been long enough on ships to see the sickness this can cause." Luiz responded without embarrassment.

"You're smarter than most of the men, Luiz." Matt told him, "Although you may find it more difficult to resist when you're a little older."

"When I am older I will be in America, and American women are not like this, I think."

Matt smiled at that, "Not like this, no. But you'll find some that are willing, and eventually one special one you'll want to marry."

"Perhaps, _chefe_. Perhaps I will find a woman like your _amada_ and be happy forever."

"Perhaps you will, Luiz."

OoOoO

They boarded more horses at Honolulu – a real city – four days later, and Matt found a chandlery where he could buy more clothes to replace those Luiz had outgrown. He was surprised to find both pants and shirts that would fit himself as well. "You're a tall fella," the storekeep told him, "But we got some Hawaiians here make you look small. Always keep a few things in the larger sizes." He didn't buy much though. In another month he would be back in the States, and back to familiar clothes, and, most likely, a gun. Thoughts of guns and of Kitty and the trade-offs he had made in his life kept his mind more than full on the last leg of his journey home.


	23. San Francisco

**I'm still a little disturbed about those overseas readers. I now have three separate readers in Belgium. And both my current and my last boss are Belgians. Philippe, Ian, if either of you are reading this, how about you just tell me now and let me resign quietly on Monday?**

Chapter Twenty-Three: San Francisco

Sam and Frank had been haunting the docks of San Francisco for nearly a week. They'd heard the evening before, when the crew of a British clipper disembarked, that the ship had passed the _Annie Laurie_ two days out and thought it no more than a day behind them. But when the men walked down to the wharf at noon the next day they found the _Annie Laurie_ already tied up. There was a hustle at the end of her gangplank as a group of men were slowly leading away six well-groomed but poorly-conditioned horses. Frank's eyes followed the horses, but Sam was watching the deck. He saw a very tall, bearded man in navy blue pants and jacket come to stand next to an only slightly less tall officer at the head of the gangway. "Frank, that's him!" he said grabbing his companion's arm.

Frank followed Sam's glance and was at first disbelieving, put off by the unaccustomed beard and clothing, but then the man held out a hand to the officer and the familiar gesture shook everything into place. "By God, it is!" he exclaimed and made his way swiftly to the bottom of the plank and called out, "Matt!"

Dillon, not expecting a welcoming committee, turned to look at the dock and his eyes grew round in recognition of the two men standing there. Dropping the seabag that was draped over his shoulder, he started down the gangway. Frank stood at the bottom grinning with his arms wide open, and Matt walked straight into them. The two men embraced. Matt felt his friend's lips against the scar on his cheek and hugged him even harder. Standing back half a step, still holding on to Frank's arm, he cupped a hand at the nape of Frank's neck and shook him lightly. "Did you marry her, Frank?" It wasn't what he'd planned to say, but there was nothing else he needed to know more.

"No, Matt, I didn't. I wanted to, but she turned me down," Frank replied.

"Then who did?" Matt asked astounded.

"I did, Matt," Sam said. Matt turned and looked at the creased and weathered face of the big man beside him. Sam was smiling happily, but there was worry in his eyes.

Matt extended a hand to him and when Sam took it, he added his other hand and gripped it firmly. "I should have known," he said. "I should have figured that out, but I didn't. The baby?"

"A little girl, Matt. She was born on the first of December, and we named her Maria." Sam said, and then went on, "She and Kitty are waiting for you in Reno."

"Reno?"

"Our divorce will be final in three more days."

Matt's eyes searched Sam's face. "You're divorcing Kitty? Why?"

"I'm letting her divorce me," Sam replied. "We agreed to all that before we married. There's a lot to tell, Matt, and we need to hear what happened to you. We know almost nothing except what was in your two letters. Well, three really, but the third one was just a duplicate and it came after Kitty left for Reno."

"Yeah, I sent two copies," Matt grinned. "Didn't want to take any chances in case one of 'em didn't make it."

"How about we get away from here before we get into all that, ol' son, or we'll be here on this dock all day," Frank said. "You ready to go?"

Matt nodded. "We got paid off last night. I just stayed to unload the horses." He turned back to the gangway to see Luiz standing next to Captain MacIntyre at the bottom of the plank, their seabag at his feet. He placed a hand on each man's arm and drew them forward. "Captain, I'd like to introduce Marshal Frank Reardon and Mr. Sam Noonan of Dodge City, Kansas. Gentlemen, Captain Thomas MacIntyre."

"Marshal Reardon, Mr. Noonan," the captain said, his eyes resting not on the men before him but on Dillon himself. "So he really is Matt Dillon and a US Marshal?"

Frank Reardon nodded, and taking a badge from his pocket, he pinned it onto Matt's blue coat. "A US Marshal in good standing and with a bucket full of back pay waiting for him, Captain."

"I suppose stranger things have happened, but I'm not sure I've heard of them. Dillon, you'll be back in touch before we leave?"

"Yes, sir, I will," Matt replied, and then, putting an arm around Luiz's shoulders he drew the boy forward. "Frank, Sam, I want you to meet Luiz Jose Maria Alamieda da Silviero."

"Luiz Dillon," the boy said firmly, offering his hand first to the older man and then to the younger.

"Also known," Matt agreed smiling broadly, "As Luiz Dillon."

"Now," Matt said, "I want a steak, and a bath, and a glass of whiskey, in that order. I need to buy some clothes for myself and Luiz, and I need to check in at the Marshal's Office here, but I don't have to do that until tomorrow. Lead on boys, it's time to go." Frank shouldered the duffel and led them up the street away from the harbor.

OoOoO

The steak was procured at a small restaurant on their way back to the hotel. Luiz looked on in a combination of admiration and horror as Matt worked his way through a huge t-bone, mashed potatoes, rolls, vegetables, and finished with a wedge of apple pie that would have fed four men had their ship run to such luxuries. "You eat like this every day, _padrinho_?" Luiz asked.

"When I can," Matt answered, "And I've been thinking about this very steak since long before we got to Rio."

"I have no longer surprise that you are such a big man, _padrinho_," Luiz told him.

The other men laughed and Matt joined them, but Luiz was not put off. It seemed to him a good kind of laughter. Matt tried to pay for the meal, but Sam wouldn't let him. "Money's one of the things we have to talk about, Matt," Frank said, and Sam agreed with a sober nod.

"All right, but first, let's get back to the hotel for that bath," Matt said, "I haven't bathed in anything but seawater in four months and I haven't been in an actual tub in more than a year."

Luiz looked at him in disgust. "Always the washing. Always the soap."

"We'll see how you like it when the water's hot, and not salt, and there's a whole tub full of it, Luiz." Matt said.

"I still will not like it."

"Maybe so, but you'll do it, boy," Matt told him firmly. "_And_ wash your hair as well."

"Yes, sir," Luiz agreed despondently.

Sam and Frank had taken two rooms at a hotel about half a mile from the harbor on Chestnut Street. There was a bathroom with a large tub on each floor. Matt showed Luiz how to use the one on their floor, and made sure he had a key to the rooms before going down a level to immerse himself in a tub of hot water with Frank to keep him company. It was mid-day and the hotel was nearly deserted, so Matt settled in to soak.

"That word the boy calls you – pa-DREEN-yo – you know what that means, Matt?" Frank asked him.

"I think it means "little father" or something like that so maybe papa or daddy," Matt said, resting his head back against the edge of the tub.

"Not quite. It's the same thing in Spanish. It means godfather."

Matt considered that. "Well, Luiz does remember his own father, so I suppose it's a compromise. I don't mind."

"You ever been a godfather, Matt?"

"Nope, but I know you have, Frank."

"Down in Arizona they take that seriously. A godfather is supposed to take over everything when a child's father dies. Usually the Mexicans keep it in the family with a brother or an uncle or a cousin."

"Like I thought you'd marry Kitty when you thought I was dead?" Matt asked him solemnly.

"Just like that," Frank said. He tipped his chair back against the wall and set his boots on the edge of the tub. "You want to talk about that first, Matt, or you want to hear things in order?"

"In order, I suppose. You talk while I wash."

It took longer than that, of course. By the time Matt was clean and dry and dressed, Frank had gotten up through Festus and Newly's trip back to Dodge with Estelle. "I don't even remember what she looked like, Frank," Matt commented. "Just that there was a woman and a little girl in the wagon when I stepped in. I remember Tonneman taking my gun and pointing it at me and then burning pain and darkness. Must have been a long time before I came to, and then I was in that wagon for days, no, for weeks. Thirsty all the time and the wound blazing on my face."

Frank draped an arm around his friend's shoulders, seeming to need to keep touching him to know he was really there. "Let's go back up and get Sam in on this, Matt. He was around while it was happenin'. I just heard it from Doc and the others."

They found Sam and Luiz sitting in two of the three armchairs in front of the fireplace in the main bedroom. The smaller connecting room had only two narrow beds and a washstand. Luiz stood as the men entered, and Matt settled into the chair he vacated. "You been telling him about what happened, Sam?"

"No. He's been telling me about what happened to you," Sam said gravely.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll get to that later. I want to hear what happened in Dodge. Frank just got to where the boys brought in that little girl to Doc."

"Estelle," Sam said with a smile spreading across his face. "Kitty and I've been raising her, Matt. She's a dear girl, and she's got more than a little to do with this story."

Taking it in turns Frank and Sam filled Matt in on what had happened. They detailed Ace's quest for the Tonneman gang and his adventures in Galveston, and they introduced Matt to the idea of Julie Haggen. The last episode, with the gang's attempt to ambush Frank, and Sam being shot by Shiloh, left his face sober. Frank described the events in Washington and Dodge up through the arrival of Matt's second letter, and explained Judge Brooker's advice. Matt noticed that Sam didn't speak more than the barest description of his marriage to Kitty, and that although he described 'the suitors' and Frank's arrival that there were clearly pieces of that story that were also left out. He reckoned he'd be talking privately with each of the men before long.

"Doc and Kitty left for Reno with Maria and Estelle on the fifteenth of September." Sam said, "She got in touch with Judge Brooker's friend – a lawyer named Ralph Waggoner – and he started putting all the papers together while they waited for her to become a resident. The lawyer decided Kitty needed a more specific complaint against me, and Mollie Parks came through with that, so Waggoner filed the divorce complaint on the second of this month, Judge Julien heard the case in his chamber on Monday the fifth, and the divorce will be final when the newspapers publish it on Friday."

"Sam, I don't know what to say." Matt's voice was unsteady.

"There's only one thing I need to hear from you, Matt," Sam said looking him in eye, "And that's that you're going to marry Kitty on Saturday. That's the only thing that matters."

"Marrying Kitty is the thing I want most in this world, Sam. Assuming she'll have me, nothing is going to stop that from happening," Matt told him. "I've been thinkin' for a year now that I'd lost any opportunity to marry her, and tryin' to make up my mind to take whatever consolation I could from being her friend. Sam, I just don't have words…"

"You've said the only words that matter." Sam said.

"What are you going to do now, Sam?" he asked. "I wouldn't think you'd want to go back to Dodge."

Sam and Frank shared a glance. "Kitty and I sold the Long Branch, Matt," Sam told him. "That's why I stayed in Dodge while she went to Reno. It was our agreement from the beginning that we'd sell out and split the money." He met Matt's eyes squarely, "Neither of us feels we can live in Dodge anymore."

Matt nodded slowly. "That makes sense, Sam. I'll have to see where Kitty wants to go. What about you?"

"I'm moving to Denver. My brother owns a bar down near the capitol building, and he's been trying to get me to go partners with him for several years now – but I didn't want to leave the Long Branch. I'll invest my share of the saloon money in fixing up the place, maybe add a restaurant," Sam said. "Speaking of which, you ready for dinner?"

"I am!" Matt agreed. "You've no idea the hours I spent on those ships thinking about real American food."

They ate at a place near the hotel, continuing their conversation there and then later back by their fireplace at the hotel. At some point, Sam yawned and took himself off to bed in the other room, leaving Frank to be private with Matt and Luiz. When Matt noticed the boy's head nodding half an hour later, he walked Luiz into the far room where he could have a bed to himself.

"He's a little old, isn't he, for you to be tucking him in?" Frank commented when Matt returned, shutting the door behind him. He refilled Matt's glass from the whiskey bottle and handed it to him as he sat down stretching out his long legs.

"You have no idea how strange all this to him, Frank," Matt replied taking a sip from his glass. "Sleeping in a bed. Bathing in a tub. Even using a chamberpot. And the food! Lord, Frank, you wouldn't believe what the food was like on those ships, even the good ones, and there was never enough. It's no wonder the boy didn't grow!"

"How old is he? Twelve, thirteen maybe?"

"Luiz turned fifteen last week. And he started growing just a few months ago. When I first met him he was almost fourteen and looked ten." Matt gazed steadily at Frank in silence for a minute or two before he added, "He'd been raped pretty regularly by the men on his ship, Frank. For years. That's left him… untrusting. I'm amazed sometimes it didn't spoil him permanently."

Frank took that in. It wasn't something they'd dealt with often as lawmen, but now and then they'd see it. "He seems to trust you, partner," he said at last.

"I hope so. I owe him my life," Matt said, drinking a little more and turning the glass in his hand. Eventually he asked, "You ever think about hell, Frank?"

"From time to time, Matt, yes, I do."

"When I first woke up on that ship, I wondered if I'd died, and it was hell," Matt said. Frank waited. After a while he went on. "I've never thought of myself as a man who needed a lot of things. A gun, a horse, a badge. But when I woke up on the _Lupinho_ I had nothing. Nothing. Not even a pair of drawers. I was naked, I was hungry, I was a captive, and everyone I loved was gone. I couldn't even understand the language. Then Luiz walked into the room and took my hand. The two things that kept me going were a determination to get back to Kitty, and Luiz by my side. Couldn't have done it otherwise."

Matt was studying his glass, but Frank's voice came to him, deep and full of comfort. _"__For I was hungry and you gave me food, __I was thirsty and you gave me drink, __I was a stranger and you welcomed me, __I was naked and you clothed me, __I was in prison and you came to me. Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me."_

"And if that means I tuck him into bed until he's twenty, I'll do it every night," Matt said softly.

Frank rose and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, and Matt reached up to grip it. Later, in the dark, stretched out next to each other on the bed, Frank asked, "You still awake, Matt?"

"Yeah."

"I need to tell you something."

"Kitty?"

"Yes."

"I figured, Frank. You want to talk about it?"

"I didn't plan on it, Matt. We were both hurtin' bad, and I was just going to hold on to her – hold on to the only part of you I had left - and talk, and then I… I felt where the baby was growin'. I hadn't known. You hadn't said. God, Matt, it was just more than I could take in. Maria and our baby dead. And then you dead. And Kitty alive and carryin' your child."

"You wanted to marry her?" Matt asked.

"I did. And she told me she was going to marry Sam. She was determined, and she had her reasons. So for us it was just that one night."

Matt noticed how he said that. 'Just one night', not 'just one time'. "Sam know?"

"Yes. We talked the next day. Settled things between us." Then after a bit, Frank asked, "We still friends, Matt?"

"We'll always be friends, Frank." Matt said. After a while he sighed, "I've been picturin' you married to Kitty for a long time now, and all I could manage to hope was that you'd both still care enough for me that you'd let me have a part in the baby's life. I never really thought of Sam. I never imagined that anyone who married Kitty could bring himself to let her go."

"It's how much he loves her, Matt, but you have to know it's not easy for him. He says it's because they had an agreement, and they did, but it's really because he wants her to be happy more than he wants that for himself. He knows she ain't gonna be happy without you no matter how much she cares for him."

"No one ever gave me a bigger gift, Frank."

"Don't suppose anyone ever will."

Both men turned over and Matt felt the familiar warmth of Frank's back against his own. They slept.

OoOoO

In the morning, after breakfast – which involved yet another steak, Frank took Luiz to buy clothes. Matt handed over a roll of bills and made sure to tuck some directly in the boy's pocket as spending money. He'd been astounded to find that his ten pounds a month equaled fifty dollars in US currency and that the boy's five a month came to a man's salary of twenty-five dollars. Sam and Matt found a bench in a small green park and settled themselves for what both expected to be a difficult conversation. It was a rare sunny day, but the breeze off the bay was chill.

"Sam…" Matt began, but his friend stopped him.

"Why don't you let me start this, Matt? I've got some things I've got to get out, and some of them you're not going to like, so let me get it done."

"All right," Matt agreed.

"There's no easy way to put this, Matt, so I'm just going to say it out, and then we can deal with it. Kitty's pregnant."

Matt didn't respond. "Nothing to say, Matt?" Sam asked after the silence had grown long.

"I was waitin' for you to tell me the part I wasn't going to like."

Sam shook his head, "Don't hold out on me here, Matt. We need to settle this."

"Yes, we do. You and Kitty already talk about it?"

"Some. We were waiting for you. Kitty said it wouldn't matter to you, but I disagreed. No man wants his wife to have another man's child."

"You did, Sam."

"That's different. I'd love any child Kitty had," Sam retorted.

"And you think I wouldn't?"

"We thought you were dead, Matt."

"And you're most definitely not. How do you want to handle this, Sam? That's the part we need to talk about."

"I guess I figured maybe I'd be a sort of uncle to all the children, Matt. I know Maria's your child, but I love her like my own, and nothing's going to change that. And Estelle, maybe Estelle can come and stay with Mike and me in Denver sometimes. She's used to bein' raised by the whole town. She's going to miss that," Sam conjectured.

"And the new baby?"

"The new one will be a Dillon, just like Maria's a Noonan, and if you'll let me, I'd like to see the child from time to time," Sam said.

"Sam, you need to remember that for more than a year I've been standing right where you are today – thinking, knowing, that Kitty had married someone else and just trying to believe that whoever that was would trust me enough to let me be around Kitty, let me be a part of my child's life." Matt let that sink in before he went on. "I know this isn't the way families usually work, Sam. I know that usually a woman has nothing to do with a man who has hurt her enough to divorce him. Guess, we're going to have to get used to doing things a little differently."

"I wouldn't want the children to know, Matt," Sam said. "That's one of the reasons why Kitty and I agreed to leave Dodge. Too many people suspect, or think they know, that Maria isn't my daughter. They made it hard on Estelle, and they would make it just as hard on Maria when she gets older and goes to school."

"No need for that, Sam." Matt agreed. "Plenty of time when they're grown to explain things if that seems right, but as for loving, for being part of the family – that will always be your right, Sam, and you never need to worry that I won't welcome you."

The two men sat for a long time, lost in their own thoughts. "Frank talk to you about money, Matt?" Sam said at last.

"No, he told me he was goin' to, but then we got off on other things."

Sam was pretty sure what those other things were, but he went on, "First off, we got a little over six thousand for the Long Branch. We could have gotten more if we hadn't been in a hurry, but we were. Kitty and I split that. She had some savings, and I did too, so we're both flush right now. We took Estelle's reward money from killing Shiloh and put it in the bank with what Doc got for selling her parents' farm. She's pretty well set up. She'll have money to go to college if she wants, or to go into business, or help her husband if she marries. As for Maria…"

But Matt interrupted there, "I'll see to Maria, Sam."

Sam shook his head, "No, Matt. That's not the way this family's going to work. The judge set me twenty-five dollars a month for Maria's support, and if you won't take that then I'll put it in the bank for her. By the time she's grown, she'll have enough to match Estelle. And you can do the same for my child if you've a mind to. That way they all come out even."

Matt chewed on that for a while. He didn't care for it, but it was the first slice of making Sam a part of the children's life. He tried to see it from both sides and supposed he would get used to it. Sam rightly took his silence for consent and went on, "Frank got word from the Secretary of War a few weeks ago. He said he'd gotten a letter from you and wanted us to notify him if we heard from you. Frank wrote back and said we'd let him know when we saw you – didn't want anyone crowding around until we got things talked through and you and Kitty got married."

"I do need to go to the Marshal's Office here this afternoon, Sam. I told Endicott I'd report in."

"You've got back pay coming, Matt." Sam told him.

Matt shook his head, "I heard Frank say something about that, but it didn't seem right. Luiz and I have our pay from the ships. We haven't spent much."

"The Secretary apparently took it all the way up to the president, Matt. He said that men who were prisoners of war got their full pay for their time in captivity, and that you should get the same since you were taken and held in the line of duty."

"Well, fifteen dollars a month does add up to something…" Matt started, but Sam cut in.

"Not just your base pay, Matt. Endicott insisted on your full territorial marshal's pay with the hazard bonus. When you go in this afternoon, they're planning on giving you the full hundred a month for every month you were gone."

"That doesn't seem right, Sam." Matt said.

"Well don't you go and tell them that, Matt Dillon!" Sam expostulated. "Secretary Endicott and Frank, and a bunch of the other marshals, fought for this – wrote letters to the president of the United States. Your case means a lot to them 'cause they know it's not just death they're facing, but the same kind of thing that happened to you. This sets a precedent is what Judge Brooker said, and he and the other Kansas judges, and Governor Martin wrote letters as well. So you just get it through your mind that you're going to accept that back pay without an argument."

When Matt made no further comment, Sam went on, "The real question, Matt, is what are you going to do next? You going to resign that badge at last?"

"Yes, Sam, I am. I decided that on the way in from Hawaii," Matt said and then continued slowly, "It's clear that Frank was able to take over and hold the town, and that's his job now. If he wants to give it up, then someone else will take it on. You know what I thought about a lot, Sam?"

"What's that, Matt?"

"I thought that it's been almost seventeen months since I've killed anyone."

One side of Sam's wide mouth pulled down in a wry grimace. "That's quite an accomplishment, Matt. It hurts my soul, but it is an accomplishment. You think you can keep that up?"

Matt shook his head. "Don't see any way to do that. There'll be men coming after me for another twenty years, and I'll have a family to defend, but if I take off the badge, then every year should get a little better instead of a little worse."


	24. Reno

Chapter Twenty-Four: Reno

Sam stayed on board the train when it stopped in Reno Saturday morning. He was going on to Denver, and the men had said their goodbyes as the train pulled in. Matt and Luiz, now both dressed in what Matt considered normal clothes, stepped onto the platform with Frank. Matt wore his own gunbelt, and all three of them had Stetsons. Matt's hair was cut and his beard neatly trimmed – he wasn't sure about shaving with the scar slicing his face, but thought he'd wait and see what Kitty said about it.

Doc was there to meet them with a plain, neatly-dressed girl beside him. He smiled broadly and held out a hand, but Matt, also smiling, told him simply, "I need more than just that, old man," and enveloped him in an embrace.

"You let me go, you big ox," Doc said, holding on to him tightly, "You're gonna break my bones."

Eventually, they parted. Doc brought Estelle forward, and Matt took the girl's hand. "I've heard a lot about you, Estelle," he said, "I know we saw each other before, but I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"I remember, Marshal," she said, "And I'm glad you're not dead." But then there was a shrill whistle from the end of the platform where Frank was standing with the luggage, and Estelle went running towards him to be gathered up, twirled around, and kissed on both cheeks.

"It will take her a while, Matt," Doc said. "She loves Sam almost as much as she loves Kitty. But we've talked, and she's going to try."

Matt's eyes were searching the covered platform. "Where's Kitty?" he asked.

"She's waiting for you at the house, son," Doc said. "She wanted to come, but I didn't want Maria out in this wet snow."

"She all right?"

"She's fine, Matt," Doc told him, "Fine and healthy and 'glowin' like a rose'."

"I need to see her, Doc. I honestly don't think I can wait a minute longer."

Doc pointed down the street from the station. "Small green house on the right side, three blocks that way. She'll be looking for you. The rest of us are going to go have some breakfast and give you two some time to yourselves." Matt was off before he finished speaking – long, quick strides that weren't quite running.

Kitty was watching for him. She ran out in the snow to meet him as soon as she saw his tall form cross the street and come down the block towards her. She ran straight into his arms, and all the fear and apprehension that somehow things would be different drained right out of Matt as he held her hard against him. It felt like she had never been out of his arms. At some point, he noticed the snow on her hair, brushed it off, and moved his new hat to cover her. Arm in arm they walked back to the house and in the front door.

Taking his hand, Kitty led him through the door to the front bedroom and stopped beside the crib where Maria lay asleep, her thumb in her mouth and her bright curls in disarray. "Oh, Lord, Kitty, she's so beautiful," Matt said, the first words other than her name that he had actually spoken. "She has your hair."

"Not really, cowboy. Hers is blonder than mine, but it may get darker as she grows," Kitty told him.

Matt held her away from him just a little and tipped her face up, "Let me look at you. I don't think you've been eating enough."

Kitty looked up at Matt and reached a hand to run through his beard, and then a fingertip to trace the scar along his face. "Do you think you can put up with it?" he asked her seriously.

"The scar, yes," she answered with a smile, "The beard, we'll have to see."

"Let's just try that out now," Matt said softly, cupping her face and reaching his mouth down for a kiss. He'd meant it to be gentle, but Kitty's body molded to his, her arms around his neck, and her mouth opening under his lips. They clung to each other, tongues searching, until they finally broke apart gasping for breath. Matt clasped her against him, unwilling to let her go. Kitty settled her cheek against his heart and stood listening to it beat.

"I know there's things we should say, Matt, but all I want to do is hold you and never let you go," she told him.

"We've got all the time in the world, sweetheart, for holding, for talking, and for loving."

When the others came in stamping off snow and carrying luggage an hour or so later, they found Kitty and Matt sitting close together on the sofa with baby Maria sharing their laps. Matt stood and went to Luiz who was hiding himself behind the others. Frank reached down to pick up Maria – holding her high over his head while she giggled frantically. Matt led Luiz forward and the boy went down on one knee in front of Kitty. He took the hand she offered him and kissed it as if he had made that gesture his whole life. "You are as beautiful as he told me, _dama_. For you he has crossed the whole world."

"Thank you for bringing him back to me, Luiz," Kitty said, leaning forward to take his face in her hands and kiss his cheeks. "I can never, ever thank you enough for doing that."

Before there was time for the scene to prove embarrassing, Frank handed Maria to her father and said, "Don't you kids bother to take those coats off, you and I are heading downtown."

"In the snow?" Estelle asked.

"In the snow," Frank agreed. "Do you know that Luiz has never seen snow before today?"

Estelle looked at Luiz in surprise. "Never?"

"Where I lived as a child, there was snow in the mountains, but not near us. On the ship, no." Luiz said.

"So you've never thrown a snowball?" Estelle asked, her eyes suddenly bright with purpose.

"What is this thing, a snowball?"

"Well, I think you're bound to find out soon, youngster," Frank told him.

He was starting to herd them towards the door when Kitty said, "Don't forget your hat, Estelle."

The girl's face soured, but she reached for the small straw hat that she'd removed the minute she came through the door. "Yes, ma'am."

"You do not like this hat?" Luiz asked watching her.

"It's a silly hat and it doesn't keep the snow off at all. I wish I had a hat like yours," she replied.

Luiz looked at the Stetson he still held in his hands. He adored the new, western clothes that Frank and Matt had outfitted him with, but the hat, just like theirs, was the crowning glory. He handed it to Estelle. "You take this one, _menina_," he said.

Grinning, Estelle tried it on, but her smile faded when she found it too large. She handed it back. "I will buy you a hat. Just like this. It is a good hat," Luiz told her.

"A girl can't wear a hat like that, Luiz," Kitty said trying to hide the smile that teased her lips.

"My girl can if she wants to," Matt said stoutly. "Luiz has six months' pay in his pocket, and if she wants a Stetson he can get her one."

Nothing Matt could have said would have established him so positively in the child's graces. The smile that she gave him transformed her plain face into a thing of delight. Leaving the despised straw hat hanging by the door, Frank ushered the two of them out into the snow.

Skipping along, Estelle asked, "What was that you called me in there? Men… mena?"

"_Menina_," Luiz replied. "It is a little name," he looked up at Frank who inserted, "A nickname."

"Yes, a nickname, to use for a girl in one's family." Luiz looked shyly down at his boots, "I called my little sister this."

"You have a sister?" Estelle asked in surprise.

"Not anymore. She died, oh, four years ago." Luiz replied.

"I'm sorry. My sister died too, but she was just a baby."

"That is sad, _menina_. If you do not dislike, I can call you this."

"I like it." Estelle declared. "Will you really buy me a hat? A Stetson?"

"Certainly." Luiz replied calmly, "I have said it."

"Then I won't throw a snowball at you," Estelle said, and then amended, "At least not until after we get the hat."

Frank laughed at that and shepherded them on towards the stores on Virginia Street.

OoOoO

Back at the house, Kitty went into the kitchen and returned with a pot of coffee and three cups. She poured and handed one to Doc and then traded Matt a coffee cup for his daughter. She set Maria on the floor where she immediately made a beeline for Doc and pulled herself up against his knee.

"She can walk?" Matt exclaimed.

"Not yet, but pretty soon, I think," Kitty replied, "Right now she has to hold on to something to stand up."

Doc set down his cup and lifted the child into his lap where she tucked her hands into his pocket and began contentedly playing with his watch. The three of them sat, looking at each other, almost too satisfied to speak.

"You know, Doc, I had some mighty long conversations with you while I was on that first ship," Matt said at last.

"How'd you manage that?" Doc asked.

"Kept askin' myself what you would tell me to do. You always came up with the same advice."

Doc considered that for a moment, "I imagine I'd tell you to look after yourself, wait for your chance, and not to fight against things you couldn't change."

Matt's smile came from deep inside him. "Pretty much exactly the words I came up with, Doc. That and you tellin' me that you loved Kitty and you'd watch over her."

"We all watched over her." Doc said, "And she didn't make it easy for us, let me tell ya."

"Oh, stop it, Doc. Just 'cause I got out of bed before you wanted me to after the baby…"

"_And_ walked right outside and up to my office to see Sam," he interrupted.

"Wish I'd been there, Kitty," Matt said, his face clouding, "The day I thought you'd be having the baby I couldn't think of much else. We were in a big storm off the coast of Africa and they had me down on the pumps. The water kept rising, and I didn't even notice. I just kept pumping and thinkin' about you and Doc up in your room and the baby comin'." He sighed. "I suppose she was already two weeks old by then." Matt laid a hand on Kitty's belly, "This one, you just bet I'll be around."

Doc busied himself dandling Maria on his knee, not quite able to deal with the intensity of the look that Matt and Kitty shared at that remark. Clearing his throat he finally said, "Frank tell you what time the wedding is?"

"No, but I figured he wouldn't have left if it was comin' up too soon."

"Three o'clock," Doc said, "Over at the Methodist church on Fifth Street. We can walk if the snow stops, or I'll get a buggy for Kitty and the baby."

Matt looked around the small house in sudden embarrassment. Clearly Estelle and Maria had been sharing the main bedroom with Kitty, with Doc in the other small bedroom. It wasn't what he would choose for a wedding night, or for a reunion after more than a year apart. Doc met his eyes, his own sparkling with both merriment and kindness, "We got you and Kitty a room at the Black Rose for your honeymoon, Matt. Frank's leaving for Dodge on the morning train, and I'll stay here with the children for a few days until you all settle what you want to do."

Matt nodded his thanks. He should have known he could count on Doc to take care of him as well as Kitty. "I'm mighty glad to be home," was all he said.

OoOoO

The wedding party walked the few blocks to the brick church on Fifth Street. The bride was dressed in a traveling dress of dark green covered by a black cloak and wore a small green hat with several feathers. The maid of honor had been hustled into a pale blue wool dress that came down almost to her ankles and made her feel quite grown up. The tan Stetson she sported did not add to that image, however, it did keep her hair dry and shade her eyes nicely. Doc wore his usual dark suit and hat covered by his old buffalo coat, but the other men were dressed in jeans, work shirts, and heavy coats. Heeled riding boots and Stetsons completed their fashion statements for the day.

Estelle hung her hat in the coat room just like the other gentlemen. There were no bouquets, but she took Maria from Kitty's arms and held the sleepy child against her shoulder. Luiz looked around the small church with critical eyes. He liked the two stained glass windows at the front, but looked in vain for a font of water to cross himself. His eyes went wide in disbelief when the Reverend Mr. Dixon introduced the lady sitting at the organ as his wife. There were no statues, not even a crucifix, only a bare wooden cross behind the altar. Kitty noticed his discomfort and took a moment to turn him to face her, pretending to straighten his collar.

"This is a church, _dama_?" he whispered.

"Yes it is, Luiz. I imagine it's a bit different from what you remember, but it's a fine church."

"God is with us here, _dama_?"

"Always," she told him smiling and let him go to take Matt's arm.

The ceremony was brief and without incident. The only surprise occurred when the minister asked if there was a ring and Matt took a wide gold band inset with three small sapphires out of his pocket and proceeded to place it on Kitty's finger. Matt gave the bride the tender kiss he'd planned on earlier that day, and left it at that. Frank and Doc kissed her as well, and Luiz again kissed her hand – something Kitty quite thought she might like to get used to. The papers were signed by the bride and groom and the two adult witnesses, Frank slid a ten dollar gold piece into the preacher's hand, and they headed back to the house.

The early supper that Kitty and Estelle served was the first family meal that Luiz had eaten since he left Portugal. He watched the others carefully to see how they handled portions and implements, and occasionally lifted his eyes to Matt's for a nod to see if he was doing things correctly. He endeared himself to Kitty by jumping up and starting to clear the table when Estelle did, and to Estelle by demonstrating his ability and willingness to wash dishes. "He was cook's boy for five months on the Black Queen," Matt said when Doc raised his eyebrows in comment.

"Well that's certainly handy," Kitty observed.

Matt and Kitty waited with more patience than anyone expected while coffee was served by the cook's boy and small glasses of whiskey by the saloon keeper's daughter. The evening sky was already dark when Matt stood and went to the bedroom to fetch the valise that Kitty had packed earlier.

"I don't expect to see you two before the train leaves tomorrow morning," Frank said, "So I'll just say goodbye now." He shook Matt's hand and slipped his arm around Kitty's waist to give her a quick kiss. Doc reassured a mildly anxious Kitty that he and Estelle were perfectly competent to care for Maria, but was pleased to see her worry evaporate as Matt took her hand and led her down the walk to the street.

Reno wasn't a large town, but it was nearly three times the size of Dodge City, and seemed to have more than three times the number of hotels, saloons, and gambling houses. The Black Rose was a wide board building with a deep verandah. A restaurant on the first floor was busy with diners, but no one else was waiting at the hotel desk when Matt signed the register as Mr. and Mrs. Dillon and took his key. Their room was on the top floor at the back, and included a private wash room. He led Kitty up the stairs, unlocked the door and ushered her through, stopping in the doorway to remove his gunbelt and hat and hang them on the hook just inside.

Closing the door behind them Matt stood with his back against it. As much as he'd enjoyed the reunion with Doc and meeting his daughter for the first time, this was what he'd been looking forward to ever since his first conversation with Sam. It seemed impossible that they were married, that he really belonged to Kitty at long last, and best of all, that they were alone together in this room. Kitty removed her hat and laid it on the dresser before turning to face him.

"I'm a little scared, Matt," she admitted, "It's been so long, and so many things have happened. I'm afraid to believe you're actually here. Keep thinkin' I'll wake up, and it will be a dream."

"As long as you're not scared of me, Kitty," Matt said, "then we'll work the rest of it out."

"How could I be scared of you, Matt?" she asked him, smiling, "I'm just afraid of losin' you again."

Matt walked slowly toward her and pulled her into his arms, "I'm not goin' anywhere without you, Kitty. You just give me a little time and I'll convince you of that."

"Think that'll take very long?" she purred, "For you to start convincing me?"

"Nope," he said, "I'm just afraid I won't have the strength to take long enough to do a good job of it. It's been a mighty long time, Kitty."

She raised her face to his and started unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed her. His hands found the pins in her hair and pulled them out one by one before he started on the tiny hooks holding her bodice together at the back. When she would have unbuckled his belt, Matt's hands stopped her and moved her back a little to unfasten her skirt and untie her petticoats. She turned in his arms so that he could unlace her corset, and when it dropped to the floor she faced him again, her breasts loose beneath her fitted chemise. "I want to see all of you, Kitty," he said.

Kitty sat on the edge of the bed to remove her stockings, and then unbuttoned her chemise and dropped it off her shoulders. When she stood to untie her pantalets, Matt's hands smoothed over the skin of her back, and when she let them drop, he lowered his hands to cup her bottom. "Turnabout's fair play," she remarked moving her hands back to his belt, but he stopped her again. Matt toed off his boots and lay back on the bed, opening his arms to her. Kitty lay beside him, stroking his naked torso. "You hidin' something in there you don't want me to see, cowboy?" she asked him in a sultry voice moving her hands lower to trace the edge of his waistband.

"If you touch me I'll be done for," he replied.

Kitty's fingers delicately undid his belt buckle, not letting herself touch the tight outline pushing large against the front of his pants. "You have to let me in sometime, Matt," she said popping the top button on his jeans. She ran a hand up the length of him and he groaned. She loosed the other buttons of his fly and reached in to touch him. Matt's breath caught and he thought about dying right there on the bed. He reached a hand down to remove hers but just succeeded in lacing her fingers around him. One single stroke and his hips lifted, his eyes closed, and his brain went blank in exploding pleasure as his seed shot white and wet all over both of them.

When Matt opened his eyes, Kitty was gone. He allowed all his muscles to slump and began berating himself for his lack of control. But seconds later she was back beside him, wiping his chest and belly with a damp cloth and maneuvering him out of the rest of his clothes. "I'm sorry," Matt whispered.

"I'm not," Kitty told him with a kiss. "I should have believed what you said instead of teasing you, but I still would have done the same thing. When you're that tight with it, Matt, there's nothin' else to do but let it go, and then, later, we'll both go slower."

It was chilly in the room, and Kitty turned down the covers on one side of the bed and crawled under them. Matt joined her and she snuggled against him sighing with pleasure at the feel of his skin against hers. "You're not mad at me?" he asked.

"No," she said, "but I admit I was a little surprised." She scooted up to look at his face, her hands running through his beard and her fingers stroking the long scar. "Matt, how long has it been?"

"Since I was with a woman?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"You should know, honey, you were there - the night before I took Tonneman to the train,"

"All the time you were gone?" she asked.

"I admit I eased myself when I could, Kitty, but even that's difficult when you're sleeping in a room full of men, or in bed with a boy layin' next to you," Matt told her pulling her down against him. She smelled wonderful. A floral smell of roses with an undertone of the lavender soap she'd always favored. He buried his face in her neck, and then moved it lower to lie against her breasts. They seemed, if that were possible, even softer than before. "First time I even saw a woman was in Loanda, in Africa, and most of them were colored. Not that I minded that, but I only had a little money and there was something else I needed more."

"Oh?" Her hands stroked his neck and shoulders, fighting with herself not to move his mouth to her tight and straining nipples. She knew she had to be patient, but it was almost more than she could manage. "What was that?"

"Food. On the _Lupinho_ I was always hungry, always. The _Rainha Negra_ was better, and there was a cup of coffee once a day, but still not enough. Luiz gave me part of his ration sometimes, and, God help me, I let him do it. Two days a week we got rum and I could trade mine for food so those days weren't as bad."

Kitty felt the lust drain out of her. "Oh, Matt," was all she could say as she buried her fingers in his hair.

"On the British ship, the _Annie Laurie_, I bargained for double rations. I didn't care if they paid me or not, but I had to have more to eat. So it was better the last seven months. The food was still awful, and they served tea, not coffee, but it wasn't near as bad as the first ships."

Kitty tossed back the covers and began running her hands over him. She'd known that he looked thinner, but discovered she could feel his ribs beneath his scarred flesh. She smoothed her hands down to his hips and felt the bones there as well. Matt, however, liked it. "Mmmm. You just keep doin' that, honey." So she did. It wasn't long before her wandering hands found his soft length and she toyed with him, stroking and fondling. When she moved her mouth down to kiss and lick him he grew firm again under her ministrations, and his strong hands pulled her back up to his mouth. Finally, finally he moved to her breasts, and her hips bucked against him as he caressed her nipples. "They're bigger," he said, in wonder, covering one with his mouth and sucking. He lifted his head in surprise at the sweet wet drops on his tongue.

"Doc made me wean her when he found out I was pregnant again," Kitty told him softly. "But I still let her nurse some at night when she's sleepin' next to me, so there's a little milk left. Does it bother you?"

In answer he moved to her other nipple and sucked again, tasting the sweetness and rolling the nipple with his tongue. And at that it was too late for conversation. Matt turned her under him and she spread her legs, sighing and arching as he entered her. He wanted to be slow but excitement took over and he pushed deep, holding himself on his elbows and covering her breasts with kisses. He found a nipple and drew hard on it, loving the sounds she made and the feel of her hips rising tight against him. He didn't know if he could wait, but he didn't have to. The flutter of her muscles against his plunging cock and her voice calling out in passion led him to release.

It was better after that. They both felt easier with each other and fell into a relaxed and familiar embrace. Matt's hands stroked over the softness of her belly and then he moved his face down to watch as his fingers found the striated lines of stretch marks he'd never seen before. He laid his hand over the slight rise that was her child. "You going to be okay with this, Matt?" Kitty asked him seriously. "Sam was so worried that you wouldn't want this baby."

"I can't imagine not loving any child of yours, Kitty," Matt said sincerely. "There's a balance to it somehow. I'll get to see this child grow inside you and be born, just like Sam was there for Maria. What I can't get over is Sam letting go of you. I don't know how he could do that."

Kitty's voice was quiet. "At first, when we made our agreement, I don't think he even thought it could happen. He was really just humoring me. Everyone was convinced you were dead – 'cept maybe me and Festus. But then a lot of days we were pretty sure you were, too. After all the years we'd been such good friends I knew Sam loved me, but he didn't love me the way he came to later. I suppose, there at the beginning, before things changed, he thought that if you did come back, it wouldn't be such a difficult thing to do."

"You love him, Kitty?" Matt asked levelly.

"Yes. Guess I always will. But not like I love you, Matt," she said, thinking more to explain than to reassure. "Sam's feelings changed the longer we were married. I'm sorry about that, because it made it harder on him at the end, but my feelings stayed pretty much the same. We got more familiar with each other, more easy being together, but I never felt as much for him as he came to feel for me. I was grateful to him, I was comfortable bein' with him, even in bed, and I knew he loved being a father to Maria and Estelle. Those are all the kinds of things you can build a marriage on, and we did."

Kitty drew him back up to lay beside her, caressing the soft curls of his beard while she looked into the blue of his eyes. "Sam took a bullet for me, Matt - just stepped right in front of me when Shiloh raised his rifle. So yes, I love him. But no matter how long we were together it would never have been more than a shadow of what you and I have with each other. He knew that, right from the beginning, but he never let it come between us. Whatever I could give him, that was always enough, and he never asked for more."

Matt pulled the covers up around them and laid her head on his chest, cradling her in his arms. He was silent for a while thinking all that over before he asked, "Were you angry when I didn't come back, Kitty?"

"Yes. Some with you. Some with myself," she told him honestly. "I was so mad that I hadn't just married you that last afternoon when you suggested it. It would have made everything different. But I suppose if I had done that, and then you'd died, I would have felt guilty forever for somehow changing your luck."

They lay quiet for quite a long time. Matt's hands moved softly against her smooth skin. At some point, long after he'd thought her asleep, she said, "Tell me about Luiz." So he did. When he got to the point where he learned about the _Lupinho_ transporting women, she stopped him with a question, "You think that's what Tonneman had in mind for me?"

"I'm sure of it. He wanted me to know that was going to happen. It was part of what he wanted me to suffer, and I surely did," Matt said. "There were nights when I walked the deck 'til dawn just thinking about him holding you captive, about you sold into a house somewhere that I couldn't find you, or reach you. Kitty, until I got off the ship and talked to Sam and Frank I didn't really _know_ you were safe. I hoped you were. And I told myself that was enough, that it didn't matter if I couldn't marry you, as long as you were safe. But I was ready to head south to the Gulf and take ship again for Brazil to try to find you if that's what I needed to do."

She, in turn, told him about red-haired Julie, sold by her father and rescued by Festus. "I doubt she's eighteen even yet, Matt, but she banked her reward money and worked days for me and nights at Delmonico's learning the business. And I taught her bookkeeping. She wants to open a restaurant, and she wants to marry Newly. Not sure which she wants most, but I'm hopin' she can have both."

Matt sighed. "Wish I could go back to Dodge and see folks, but I can't see that happening now. I understand why you don't want to go back, Kitty, and I'm not leavin' you alone. Maybe someday latter I'll get back for a while."

"You able to live with that, Matt?" Kitty asked him.

"Yes, as long as I can live with you, and Maria, and Estelle, and Luiz. We've got ourselves quite a family, honey, and more to come. What you think we ought to do with them?" Matt asked.

"What do you want to do, Matt?" Kitty countered.

"I want to raise horses, breed them." Matt's eyes were bright and alive. "I think Chief Joseph is still around, and we were on pretty good terms when he left Dodge five years ago – bet I could get him to sell me some Appaloosas. I liked the horse ranch I saw in Australia. I want to make something like that here. And Luiz, he lives and breathes horses if you let him. Since we can't go back to Dodge, I don't much care where we go, as long as it's not a big city, and as long as I can have access to the land and water I'll need." Matt told her truthfully.

"How about somewhere along the Platte in Colorado?" Kitty ventured.

Matt thought about that, "So we could be near enough for Sam to visit?"

Kitty nodded against his chest. "That make you mad, Matt?" she asked softly.

"No, it doesn't. Sam and I talked quite a bit. It would be nice to be near enough, say a day's ride on the train, that he could visit, but far enough that we don't have to live in a city like Denver." Matt told her giving her shoulders a squeeze.

After a prolonged silence, Kitty reached for the hand caressing her shoulder and carried it to her lips. Her voice was quiet as she said, "There's something else we need to talk about, Matt."

"Frank?" His voice was low and level.

"Yes, Frank." Kitty said, hoping he would let hear her explanation but fearing he wouldn't.

"You don't have to, Kitty, but if you want to, I'll listen."

"He told you?"

"Yes."

"That's not good enough. I want you to hear it from me. I've never been less than honest with you, cowboy, and I don't want to start our marriage with this on my conscience." She turned so that they were looking into each other's eyes in the light from the lamp. "That one night I spent with Frank we needed each other something desperate, Matt." She shook her head. "No, that's not right. We—both of us—needed _you_ something desperate. But you were dead. The only thing we had left of you was each other—each other and your baby growing inside of me. I never meant for it to happen, and I don't think Frank did either, but…well, it did. And the truth is, I don't regret it, Matt. Maybe I should, but I don't."

She searched his eyes for anger or censure, but saw only love and longing burning in those pale blue depths. "I know you figured I'd marry him, and I was tempted, but I just thank God I had the sense not to do that. He and I are too much alike – maybe that's why both of us are so good with you, cowboy – but we spark on each other. He needs a woman like Maria was - someone sweet and good and gentle who counts on him to make decisions and take care of her. If I'd married Frank, we surely would have had some good times, but I might well have killed him by now."

"Guess I have to thank you, then, for savin' his life." Matt said, his voice solemn but his eyes bright with mischief. He pulled her back against the pillows for a brief kiss and then tucked her under his arm with her head against his chest. "It's really all right, Kitty. I spent a whole lot of months thinkin' about you and Frank together forever and me nowhere in the picture." Kitty tried to comment on that but he held his fingers gently against her lips. "I'm willin' to let him get by with one night, honey, if it means I get to hold you in my arms for all the rest of our lives." He kissed the top of her head. "Anything else you feel the need to confess?"

"Well…" her fingers twisted lightly in the hair on his chest, and she arched an eyebrow at him, "Frank and Sam weren't the only men in Dodge lining up to marry me, you know. You wanna hear about all the others, too?"

Matt's chuckle started deep in his throat. "I do want to hear about Doc, and Festus, and Newly. Every word that you can remember. Sam told me about "the suitors" and it sounded like a mighty good story 'ceptin' he didn't know enough of the details."

"Oh, Matt," she said, pulling herself up to look at him, "They were so worried, and so sweet! It was horrible at the time, but now, well, you're right. Now it makes a mighty good story."

They talked on into the night. Matt's stomach started rumbling about midnight, but it was too late to find anything to eat, so they made love instead. It was slow this time, with Matt holding her from behind and moving his hand against her while he stroked in and out at a leisurely pace that gradually grew in tempo as she coasted along the edge, dipping into one little climax after another until he finally burst inside her. They slept then, deeply and at peace, back in each other's arms at last, where they belonged.


	25. Epilogue: Alamieda Ranch, Colorado

Epilogue: Alamieda Ranch, Northern Colorado

Festus brought the mail back from Greeley in the early dawn of a June morning. He'd had a good night that involved liquor and the attentions of a very pretty dark-haired girl who not only served him the liquor, but welcomed him back to her room when the saloon closed. He handed the mail off to Matthew as he led Ruth into the corral and unsaddled.

The fat envelope decorated with foreign stamps stood out, and, laying the rest of the mail down on the kitchen table, Matt stared at the letter they'd waited so long for. Kitty turned from the cookstove to look at him. "What is it Matt?" she asked.

"Letter from the American embassy in Portugal," he answered.

"Oh, my," was all she said.

"Where's Luiz?" Matt asked.

"He's out doing the milking," Kitty said.

Matt wound his arms around her waist from behind and kissed the back of her neck. "I'm goin' out to the barn, sweetheart. You keep the girls in here with you for a while?"

"I love you, Matt," was her response.

Matt pressed his lips into her temple and then headed out to the barn to find Luiz. They only kept one milk cow, and Luiz was almost through with her when Matt arrived. He waited silently, watching the tall, dark-haired young man with his head against the cow's side and his strong hands squeezing milk from her teats. Matt thought his heart might break, but his face was calm.

Luiz saw him when he stood to pick up the milk pail and grinned. "I wasn't sure if Festus would get back in time or not, Pop, and I didn't want ol' Bonnie to be hurtin' while she waited for him."

Matt nodded silently and held out the letter. Luiz's face fell. "Let's take a walk, son." Matt said.

They walked up the little rise behind the house, and Matt settled down on the far side of the one big apple tree that topped it. Luiz stood beside him and they both looked out over the rolling green pasture land before them. "You ever think about the sea, Pop?" Luiz asked.

"Not really think about it, Luiz. I dream about it sometimes." Matt answered.

Luiz nodded. "That too." He waited. He knew Matt would wait with him as long as he wanted. "Do we have to open it?"

"Yes, we do, son," Matt said.

"All right then,_ padrinho_. Let's do it." It had been months since Luiz had called him that.

There were three letters in the envelope. The first was a short one from the US ambassador to Portugal saying that he had verified and investigated the case, and that the man responding to Dillon's inquiry was indeed who he said he was. The second was written in Portuguese on heavy paper with a crest at the top. The third was a translation of the second. Luiz stared at the crest. "I remember this, Pop. This was carved into the stone at the top of the gate into the stable yard."

Matt had been reading the translation with a sinking heart. "Can you read the letter, Luiz?"

He tried reading it out loud, got a few words, sounded out others, and then gave up. "I can't do it anymore. I can read the little words, and some of the big ones, but I don't really know what it all means."

"It's from your uncle. Your mother's brother. He wants you to come back and live with him." Matt handed Luiz the translated letter.

Luiz read the letter, then gave it back. He stepped away a little and stood looking down at the horses in the pasture below them. After a time he came back and sat in front of Matt and let his father put his arms around him and rest his cheek on his hair. _"__Eu tenho que ir__, padrinho?" _Luiz asked.

"No, son. You don't have to go," Matt said. "But you need to know why you're making that choice."

That took longer. Matt sat thinking of the boy who had come to him in the depths of hell and taken his hand and led him onto the deck of a ship. It had been almost five years since that day. International mail was slow, and tracking down Luiz's family had not been easy, even with the fading papers from his _caixa_.

"Pop, I feel like such a failure." Luiz said at last.

"Why's that, son?" Matt asked.

"You tried so hard to get home. You didn't let anything stop you. You never gave up. And you forced people to let me come with you. I feel like I should be as brave as you were, as determined," Luiz said. "But I just don't want to. Those people, maybe they are my relatives, but you and Kitty and Estelle and the kids – you're my family now. When I try to think in Portugee, Pop, all I think are bad things. The _Lupinho_, and Martinez, and Malachai. Men hurting me and me being afraid all the time. It's… it's dirty in those memories."

Luiz hung his head and let Matt stroke his hair, "I know my family would be different. I remember my Uncle Renaldo, at least a little, he lived in the city but he would come home for Christmas and he had a son my age, Bartolomeo, and we would ride the horses together and get in trouble. But none of that is real for me anymore." Luiz scooted around to look up in Matt's face, "_This_ is real, Pop. This ranch, and you, and Kitty, and the horses. This is how I want to spend my life. Am I a bad person because that's all I want? Because I don't want to go to a home that isn't my home anymore?"

"No, Luiz, you're not bad at all."

"Do you want me to leave, _padrinho_?" Luiz said, his words hauntingly echoing those he'd spoken at the Collier station outside Sydney.

"No, son. I just want you to be free to choose your own way." Matt told him.

"This is what I choose, Pop," Luiz said softly. _"Eu te amo, padrinho."_

"I love you, too, Luiz."

"I'd better get that milk in before it goes sour and Kitty has a fit," Luiz said standing up. He headed down the rise towards the barn, but Matt just sat, his back against the old apple tree, and looked out over the green acres where his spotted horses grazed.

It might have been an hour later that Kitty climbed up to sit next to him, taking his arm and laying her head against his shoulder. "Luiz tell you he's stayin'?" Matt asked. Kitty nodded her head against him.

"You happy, Kitty?"

"More happy than I ever believed I could be, Matt," she said. "'cept I'm gettin' fat."

"That's just the new baby, sweetheart. It won't last long. Anyway, it just makes you more beautiful." Matt told her with a kiss.

Kitty knew better, or thought she did, but she didn't argue. Matt's two daughters were the light of his life, but she was pretty sure he was hoping for a boy this time.

"Doc with the girls?" Matt asked.

"No, someone came and got him for a broken arm. Doesn't matter how many times he tells them he's retired, they just keep comin'. Luiz is with them," Kitty said.

"And Saturday Estelle gets home for the summer." Matt said with satisfaction. "And we'll have Sam for at least a week." He liked it best when all his family was at the ranch, but he hadn't said a word against it when Estelle told them she wanted to stay winters with Sam and go to high school in Denver. "Did you ever think we'd have so much to love, Kitty?" he asked.

"No. I could never see much farther than just loving you, Matt." Kitty said. "The rest, well, the rest all just happened."

o * o * o* o* o * o * o* o* o * o * o* o* o * o * o* o* o * o * o* o* o * o * o* o

**Dedication**

Many of us who read these stories are in the same age group. Most, though not all, of us are Americans. I am, and my own college years were 1968-1972. Men I knew and loved went to Vietnam. Some chose to go. Some had no choice. Some returned. Some died. Some simply disappeared. This story is about a man who disappeared, but eventually came home. It's also about a boy who disappeared and chose not to go home. And so I dedicate this story to those men, and women, who are still "Missing in Action, Body not Recovered". They left wives, parents, lovers, and children born and unborn – all of whom, one way or another, had to go on with their lives.


End file.
